


Heart of Gold

by legolasbadass



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: All Female Dwarves are Badass, And Lots of Fluff?, Angst, As canon as it gets, Awkward Thorin, Baby Durins, Bathing/Washing, Battle of Azanulbizar, Class Differences, Dear loRD the yeARNIng, Did I Mention I Love Thorin?, Did I mention there's sex?, Dis is a badass, Durin Family Feels, Dwarf Courting, Dwarf Culture & Customs, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Fluff, Female Friendship, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Hair Braiding, Innuendo, Intimacy, Little Dwarflings, Loss of Virginity, Lots of Sex, Major Original Character(s), Male-Female Friendship, Mutual Pining, Overprotective Thorin, Probably More Than It Is Healthy, Protective Thorin, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sad and Happy, Sadness, Secret Relationship, Sex, Shameless Thorin Worship, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Stubborn Thorin, Tenderness, Thorin Feels, Thorin Is an Idiot, Thorin Would Be the Best Dad, Thorin is a Softie, Thorin is insatiable, Thorin is the Most Devoted Lover, Uncle Thorin, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Yearning, Young Fíli and Kíli, betrothal, but also real happy and fluffly, but also they've always loved each other (ish), but he's such a sweet idiot, like real sad sometimes, like really slow burn, so many feels, so much research, they're just dumb
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:08:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 50,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23178991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legolasbadass/pseuds/legolasbadass
Summary: The coming of a dragon is like a great roar of thunder, and a tempest of fire and their wings are like steel. Long ago, it came, killing and stealing, driving the Dwarves far away with nought but the clothes on their backs. Great halls and riches for the Dwarves no more, only misery and treachery.Far to the east, they went. Thorin, the heir to the lost throne of Erebor, lost everything when the dragon came. Everything except the one thing he will find out he cannot live without. His One. A great love develops between them — a love to surpass war and hunger and grief. But a love which is forbidden.
Relationships: Dwalin/Thorin Oakenshield, Dís & Frerin & Thorin Oakenshield, Dís & Thorin Oakenshield, Dís (Tolkien) & Original Female Character(s), Dís/Dís's Husband, Thorin Oakenshield & Original Female Character(s), Thorin Oakenshield & Reader, Thorin Oakenshield & Thorin's Company, Thorin Oakenshield/Original Character(s), Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character(s), Thorin Oakenshield/Reader, Thorin Oakenshield/You
Comments: 13
Kudos: 98





	1. Prologue: Smaug Has Come

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first time posting a fic on here and I would be so grateful for any kind of reviews/first impressions, etc. Thank you!!

_The northern wind was blowing strongly through the narrow streets of Dale. The young girl began to walk faster, although she knew not of what she was afraid. Yet she felt an ache inside her, making her heart beat faster, and her feet shuffle more quickly across the stone. As she made it out of the city, she could see the pine trees blowing on the mountainside, and the guards bustling around over the large gate. Then a strange calmness took over the valley, and nought could be heard but the whistling of the wind._

_The ache she'd felt bloomed again in the pit of her belly as she heard a familiar voice shout from ahead. "Dragon!"_

_Her movements were brought to a halt by the freezing of the blood in her veins, and she felt the roar of the terrible beast before she actually heard it. She shut her eyes as if trying to rouse herself from the terrible nightmare she found herself in. But when she opened her eyes, the gates of Erebor were riddled in flames. This was no dream; it was the reality._

_She heard screams of terror all behind her, and she slowly turned around, only to see an enormous dragon destroy the city. She wanted to scream, she tried to run, but she was stuck there as she looked at the dragon burning and destroying everything in its path. Finally, she mustered all her courage to run the last stretch of road that led her to the gates but was stopped by the dragon getting closer and closer to it. Dania decided to hide behind a rock on the side and prayed to Mahal that everything would be alright. She heard more screams and roars, this time coming from inside the mountain. She was breathing heavily as she closed my ears and crawled in a ball and waited for everything to be over. She wanted her family, and she wanted her father. Oh, how she hoped they were alright!_

_Seconds that seemed like hours passed, and she slowly turned around and peeked her head over the rock. She saw many dwarves come rushing out of the mountain. She stood up when she saw her father running beside Thorin._

_"Father!" Dania shouted as she ran faster towards him. He looked around, relief evident in his eyes as he saw his only daughter. Alive and unarmed by the dragon's fury. He opened his arms, and she jumped into his comforting embrace, tears spilling from her eyes. She couldn't believe he was alright, and she was so relieved!_

_"Where is your mother?" He asked his daughter, and both their smiles fainted immediately. She looked up at him with a confused look. "I thought she was with you..."_

_"No, father. She stayed in with grandmother. She sent me by myself to go to the market..." The young girl told him and looked around, but she couldn't find them. "Father! They are still inside! We have to go get them!" She shouted, but he just looked at her with sad eyes. Understanding that he would not go inside to get them, She started to run towards the gates but was stopped by two strong arms wrapping themselves around her waist._

_"You cannot go inside. It is too late." Prince Thorin's deep voice told her, but she tried to get out of his grip. She could not leave them there._

_"Let me go!" She screamed, but he would not let go. Her father took her in his arms, and she looked at Erebor in flames as she cried and tried to get out of her father's hold on her. The terrible and unforgiving truth settling in her young mind. Her mother was gone, along with everything she had ever known._


	2. Home Lies Far Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Dania meet after a long time apart. Awkwardness ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Perhaps home is not a place but simply an irrevocable condition." — James Baldwin

In the moments between night and morning, just before sunrise, where the deep darkness began to fade away, dipping the world in the blueness of the sky, was when Dania felt most at peace. There was no sound save the soft breeze, carrying with it the smell of mud and pine from deep within the forest. Like every other morning, she began her walk towards the top of the hill that dominated the landscape just outside the small village where she resided. Rocks and branches covered the path, tearing and tangling the bottom of her skirts.

The sun was beginning to rise as she reached the top, the deep blue in the sky mixing itself with the warm orange glow of the soft autumn sun. It seemed incongruously peaceful out here, with the crackling of leaves from wind whispering through the trees mingling with the sound of birds going about their business overhead. The far-off knocking of a woodpecker echoed through the air, along with the liquid duet of mockingbirds, somewhere in the tall trees. Dania sighed, content, as she let herself forget about everything other than the eerily calming sounds of nature surrounding her. From up here, she could see far beyond Dunland — far beyond the land she hated. But she could barely see the outline of the Misty Mountains in the soft lavender sky, which blocked the one thing she would ever dream of seeing again: home.

Ever since the Dwarves had settled in the neighbouring villages of Dunland, 7 years ago, Dania had felt utterly out of place. Her father — one of the King's most trusted advisors — had grown grimmer by the day and even though he never said a word to her — nor to anyone about it, Dania knew her mother's death had caused him immense pain. Sometimes, in the evening as they sat down for their meal, she could see a pang of faint guilt in his eyes — as if he blamed himself for what had happened to her. Dania hated the idea, but even so, she knew not how to talk to him about it. The mere thought of her mother clogged her throat; like something was taking away all the air in her lungs. And so she never spoke of it, burying the thought of her deep inside.

She began her stroll down the hill when the sun had fully risen, the orange glow of the early morning illuminating the trees that swayed in the wind. A small bird was standing on the path ahead of her, its gentle song easing the insecurities of the night. Her boots sank soundlessly into thick black leaf mould as she began to hum in unison with the surrounding birds but then thought better of her behaviour once she reached the village, not being in the mood for stares and judgment. 

Now, Galtrev was a small village — but a very busy one, if you compared it with the villages around. Although to Dania, and all the Dwarves, every village and town seemed remotely inviting nor enchanting as their beloved home. Situated in the middle of the Hill Lands, Galtrev was the center of all trading in the region, which filled it with Men from all around, though no more welcoming than the locals. The man Dania worked for was one of those who was not over-fond of Dwarves, and he made no secret of it, either. But Dania made no comment about it. Even if she wanted to, she did not think she would have the strength to face someone as odd and vile as him.

The young girl pushed open the door and stepped inside the small crooked shop, her eyes landing on none other than the man in question in front of her. Geth was his name, and dark as night was his hair. He was a skinny man, with long legs and arms that seemed too long for his crooked body. When he stood up, his back would arch so that his whole figure was bent in two. But even half his size, he was still much taller than Dania — much like all the Dunlendings were, in fact, taller than all her kin.

The sound of the bell attached to the door made him aware of her presence and — turning around to face her — his eyes looked up and down her small figure and he chuckled. "T'was about time you showed up," he said as he walked towards another room, even though she was right on time, give or take a minute or so. _How to make a fuss about nothing and everything, if you asked me_ , Dania thought to herself. Still, she quietly followed him.

He led her into a small room with bookshelves that ran all the way up to the ceiling. But even with all that space, there were barely any books in here — or so it was to her eyes, for she remembered the great library of Erebor. Compared to it, this place was no more than a broom closet! A single chair and a table were placed in the middle of the room, a tall pile of old, disorganized maps resting on it.

"I want ye to file all these maps into different categories for tonight."

Gerth left the room, leaving her to work alone. Dania let out a sigh when she knew Gerth could not hear her; she did not even know into what categories she was supposed to place them in. Nevertheless, she sat down on the wooden chair and began her work. To her surprise, she found herself rather enjoying looking at all these different maps.

One, in particular, caught her attention. A map of the Wilderland, on which she could see the Lonely Mountain. She bit the inside of her cheek as she felt her heart tightening in her chest. Dania ached to go back there, back home. But she knew it was something that would never happen. But even so, she found herself wishing for things to be different and better as she traced the lines of the mountain on the parchment with her long, delicate fingers.

Someone in front of her cleared their throat, making her jump as she came back to reality. Looking up to see a Dwarf standing on the other side of the table, her eyes widened as she suddenly realized who he was.

"Prince Thorin," she said as she stood up and bowed. When she looked up to him again, she thought she saw the shadow of a smile on his face, though she knew not why.

"Dania, is it?" He asked.

"Yes," she smiled, surprised that he would even remember her name. It had been so long since she had spoken to him, for it had been so long since she had seen his sister; Dís, whom she had always been very good friends with. "What can I do for you?"

He stayed silent for a moment as if wondering how to say what he needed. While he walked around the room, Dania found herself staring at him. The last time they had been in a room together, she had been nothing more than a child. But now she was a little older, and she could see why the other Dwarrowdams constantly talked about him: he really was no pain to look at. With his thick dark hair and short beard, Thorin was very different from other Dwarves, physically, that was. She did not know him well enough to speak of his character.

She suddenly realized he was staring right back at her, and blushed madly, knowing for sure he had seen her study his features. "I asked you a question," He said simply, though, curiously, his voice seemed to tend more on an amused tone than an annoyed one.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Dania asked, feeling her cheeks heat up.

"I need a map of the Misty Mountains, preferably ones who focus on the region around the Mines of Moria," He explained, making her frown.

"Moria?" Her curious mind could not help but surface, and she realized only a second later that she should have stayed silent and obliged. After all, who was she to question the demands of the prince?

"Yes. Do you know if you possess such documents here?" He ignored her suspicions by overshadowing them with another question.

"Yes, I do, " This time she obliged.

Dania did, in fact, remember from a few hours ago that she had seen a few of those maps, and she quickly tried to recall in which pile she had placed them. Fumbling through all the old and torn parchments, she pulled out three different yet very similar maps, placing them side by side on the wooden surface for Thorin to look at.

"Mhmm," He let out a sound as he traced the words with his large fingers. "They all look the same to me." He laughed slightly, to her surprise.

"They're not," Dania told him, smiling slightly, despite the long day she had suffered. "You see, this one —" she began while pointing the one on the far left, "is a physical map. It shows things like mountains, rivers and forests," she explained, pointing the things she was stating as she went. "And this one, the largest one —" she pointed to the next map, "shows more the names of these places. You can see the river Glanduin, here. And even Lothlorien, on the other side," she showed him. "This is the one that shows you where the gate lies; here," His interest seemed to have been prickedat this moment. "And finally, you have this one, which shows all the roads in the mountains, with all their given names, of course."

"Well, these should be enough for—" He stopped abruptly mid-sentence, leaving her to wonder what these maps were for.

"Here," Dania said as she began to gently roll the maps before tying them with a leather strap. When she handed them to him, her fingers gently brushed against his hand, making it tingle in a wave from the very tips of her delicate fingers to the center of her beating heart. Dania gulped as she looked into his eyes, praying to Mahal that he had not felt it as well, nor that he had realized _she_ had felt it.

"I must go now," he said as if he suddenly became aware of the weight of her embarrassment. "Thank you...Dania," He ended while looking into her eyes, and she could not help but stare back, despite the state she was in. Dania found herself thinking about what shade of blue his eyes resembled the most. _A lake_ , she thought. _His eyes were as deep and dark as a mysterious lake, yet something wonderful lingered at the bottom_. They were the most gorgeous blue, and upon having that thought, she blushed as if he could have heard her. Yet Dania was even more embarrassed by her thoughts than anything else, and she did not understand why she could not help but want to look at him even more.

"Have a good day," He said, pulling her out of her daydream and back into the crushing reality.

Dania involuntarily frowned. "Good day," The words had barely left her mouth when Thorin was already out the door, holding what he had come for in his hands. "Good day," she repeated in a low whisper, her fingers still tingling strangely.


	3. Help Much Needed, But Not Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin's interference in things that do not concern him put weight on an already strained father-daughter relationship.

Dania sat on a hard wooden chair, meticulously dipping her quill in the black ink before carefully tracing over the worn-out lines on the parchment. As she had put all the maps away, she had realized that a great deal of the maps had become practically illegible. The next morning she had gladly begun to work on that problem.

It had been weeks since Dania had begun this task, and she found herself enjoying it, much more than she enjoyed having to listen to Gerth's constant rabbling about everything and anything. She felt rather at peace with her mind focused on the delicate precision required for the task. Her mind wandered not, staying focused on each small jet of the ink set on the parchment by the light pressure of the quill. Hours passed with nought but the soft movements of hand and wrist moving about the different words and lines, the only sound grounding her to the hard bench being the wooden floor cracking beneath the weight of the table. Dania heard the ring of the bell a few times as customer's opened the door and passed through its crooked frame, but they bothered her not, only seeking the advice of one whom they believed could be trusted. Unlike, perhaps, an outsider like her.

When the bright afternoon sky turned to mellow orange and pink, Dania stood and cleaned her workspace. Looking out through the gaping holes that served as windows, she saw men and women greeting each other in the marketplace, exchanging pleasantries before moving on back home to their loved ones. Thinking of this, she stood and grabbed her things before heading towards the door. She informed Gerth that she was done for the day and turned to open the door, but someone on the other side did so before her.

" _Dís_?" she said breathlessly as she took in the features of the beautiful dwarrowdam standing before her. She was clad in a beautiful gown as blue as the night sky and wore small jewels that shone like stars in her soft beard.

"Dania!" She beamed before engulfing her closest friend in a tight embrace.

"What— How?" Dania said with a wide smile.

"My brother told me you'd be here," she explained.

"Frerin?" Dania said in confusion.

"No, silly," Dís said with a small laugh, then gestured to someone behind her. "Thorin!"

Dania leaned toward her left and saw him standing behind her friend, looking as serious as ever. She could not help but feel a slight jolt of excitement as she thought of him talking about her— even if it was merely to inform his sister of her whereabouts. He nodded in her direction as he caught her gaze, and she gave him a small, shy smile in return, quickly turning back to Dis before her eyes could meet his once more.

"It's been so long!" Dania said.

" _Too_ long," she nodded before grabbing Dania's arm.

They slowly began to make their way back through the emptying streets as the darkness began to set in. It felt good to talk to her again, and it rather felt as if not a day had gone by without the two of them being together— as it had once been. Thorin stayed silent behind them, making Dania think that he had only accompanied his sister to protect her, though from what she was not sure. Sooner than she had hoped, Dís stopped in front of a larger stone house, whose windows were emitting a comforting, orange glow, warmly welcoming the inhabitants home after a long day.

"I will ask my father to allow me more free time so that I may see you more often, Dania," she said as she held Dania's hands. "I don't think I can wait this long again to speak with you."

"Neither can I," Dania said and hugged her.

She climbed the two steps that lead to the door and disappeared behind it. Dania sighed but then noticed Thorin standing next to her.

"Surely you do not think I will let you walk home by yourself," he said with a chuckle, managing yet again to catch her off guard.

"That's very kind of you," she said with a small smile, "but really, there's no need."

"I insist," he said, taking a step toward her.

Dania only nodded in response, feeling quite incapable of speech as the warm light coming from the windows illuminated his sharp features. They said nothing as they walked. After a few minutes, she became aware of the heavy silence and occupied her mind by looking around so as not to focus on the fact she was alone with a prince. Her feet felt disconnected from one another against the uneven stone road and her breath uneven beneath her bosom. One side of the street was engulfed in darkness while the other was still bathing in a soft lavender sky fading to gray, which barely outlined the dark bulk of houses disjointedly sitting along the road. He suddenly cleared his throat, making Dania refocus her attention on the spot she was occupying, and the stones beneath her feet.

"My sister missed you dearly," he said in a low voice.

"I missed her as well."

"Is it because you have been working so much that you did not have time to see her?" He asked.

She gulped. "Yes."

"Why do you work so much?" He asked curiously.

Dania did not know why she should confide in him and yet did so anyway. "It's been very hard for my father and me, settling here and trying to earn enough to find food and shelter. I am sure you know —" she said, but then remembered who she was speaking to, "or perhaps you do not."

"I do know," he said glumly.

She stopped abruptly in front of the house she occupied with her father and gave him a small smile.

"Thank you, Prince Thorin," she said.

"Please, call me Thorin," he said with a small smirk, "and you are most welcome."

***

It was dark and cold the next day, even in the middle of the afternoon, as the rain poured down. Dania could not concentrate on anything she set herself to. The sound of heavy drops hitting the crooked roof echoed in her head, keeping her distracted. She was glad when it was time to leave, but she sighed in annoyance when she opened the door to find the rain pouring down over the village with an even bigger rage. There was no one on the street, but the deluge caused it to be even louder than when it was packed with people. Dania pulled her cloak tighter around her before beginning to take a step forward, but her foot froze in midair above a puddle. She gazed into it for a moment, unable to see the stones beneath the small pool of dark water, and for a moment, she felt as though she would fall into it.

Dania shook her head slightly before skipping over it and quickly headed for the adjacent street on my left. A drop fell on her cheek, making her shiver. She was beginning to feel the weight of her soaked clothes just as she saw the outline of the house through the thick barrier of rain that was coming down like a waterfall. She sighed in relief but frowned when she thought she saw two silhouettes standing in the kitchen through the fogged window.

She pushed open the door and shut it behind her, the sounds of the heavy rain now but a muted melody, but she frowned as she heard raised voices coming from the sitting room. She quickly walked toward the sounds and stopped abruptly in the door frame, still hooded and cloaked, as her eyes landed on her father and prince Thorin. 

"Dania — " her father said as they both turned around to face the newcomer. 

Dania's eyes caught the prince's for a moment before she took in how breathless they both were. She turned to my father, who was leaning against the mantelpiece, his face red with anger. 

"What's going on?" 

There was a long moment of silence before the prince spoke up.

"I will take my leave now," he said, avoiding the other Dwarf's gaze. "Do consider my offer, sir," he added.

He looked at Dania intently for a moment, making her gulp nervously. Then he nodded and, without so much as another word, walked out of the sitting room. The older Dwarf waited until he heard the sound of the front door close shut before turning to Dania, his face tense. 

"What were you thinking?" he said, causing her to frown. 

"What?"

He sighed deeply. "What in Durin's name possessed you to tell the prince we were struggling?" he said. "Now he has this impression that we cannot even make ends mean!"

" _Adad_ , it isn't an impression, it's the truth!"

He cursed and raised his finger at his daughter, causing her to take a step back. 

"How dare you say that to me?" he bellowed. "I do everything I can to provide for you — "

"I meant no harm!" she said quickly. "I was simply — "

"Stating the truth?" he repeated bitterly. "You do not have to remind me, _nathith_ , I see this truth day and night! You should not, however, point out that truth to others, especially not to the prince!"

"But father, it is no secret that we are struggling," she said. "Everyone does! Even the prince, he told me so himself!" 

"Now the prince has taken it upon himself to help us," he said bitterly. "Only because he pities us. We do not need his pity!" 

Dania frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked, choosing to ignore his insufferable pride. 

"The prince has offered that you become one of the princess' lady-in-waiting, and as much as I would have liked to refuse, you know I cannot do so without insulting the King himself, which is the last thing I wish to do."

She looked at him with disbelieving, wide eyes. "But, _adad_ , that is good news!" 

He glared at her, and she sighed. 

" _Adad_ , please," she spoke softly, "this will be good for us."

"I do not know what reasons the prince had for offering you this position," he said, "but trust that he was not thinking of your wellbeing, however it may seem to you."

"No, because Mahal forbid a prince care about someone like me!" she retorted angrily even though she knew it must be true. 

"You do not know him," he said. 

"No, but I know Dis!" she said. "And I know she is the reason he has offered me the position."

My dad chuckled. "You speak like a child," he said, causing her to frown. "You are not one of them."

Dania opened her mouth to retort but did not find the strength to do so. She looked to him, helplessly, her lips trembling, and thought she saw a hint of regret on his face. But rather than let him see the tears roll down her cheeks, she turned around and stormed off to her bedroom. As soon as she shut the door behind her, she collapsed onto the bed and buried her head in a pillow, letting all the rage and sadness flow out of her. She tried to push away these thoughts, to make herself believe that she was one of them, despite her parentage, but her father's words punctured her heart so that the wound festering inside her became too large to ignore. 


	4. Reminiscing and Revelations

In Erebor, the position of lady-in-waiting had been seen as a most honourable one, appointed to daughters of trustworthy advisors in payment for their work in the name of the crown. Of course, the position had nothing to do with wealth anymore, but the tradition was kept for familiarity, and because the few people who were still at the King's side deserved to be honoured.

It was on the first real Spring day of the year that Dania had the pleasure of meeting Dis' ladies-in-waiting. It was the _real_ first day of Spring because, so far, the weather had been rather unforgiving, and it was the first day on which the sun's warmth could be felt.

Dís had three ladies-in-waiting. The first she introduced as Nàl — who was tall and slender with a long and pointed face. Beside her sat Ester, sun-kissed and dumpier. She was hearty and quite the gossiper, as Dania had only just found out in the brief moments since their acquaintance. Finally, there was Iliana, whom Dania liked most thus far. While they conversed and drank tea in the sitting room, Dania noticed that the four of them had much more beautiful gowns than her. She tried not to let it bother her.

". . . Next thing you know, my father tells me he intends for us to marry," Ester sighed dramatically as she set her cup on the end table. "Can you believe that?"

"Come now," Nàl said with a wry smile, "Ingi is not as terrible as you make him out to be."

Ester gave another over-dramatic, exasperated look.

"He's kind, loyal, and quite handsome if you know how to look," Nàl said.

"But he's not exactly my type," she retorted.

Iliana snorted. "Then what is your type?"

Ester sat upright and gave her a look. "I'm much more attracted to Dwarves who are stronger and fiercer — "

" — like Dwalin!" Iliana teased.

Dania gave Dís a questioning look, who merely shook her head, a slight smirk on her lips.

Ester blushed madly, then tried to recompose herself. "Well, yes. Dwalin _is_ a very respectable — "

Nàl snorted. "Oh, please!" she exclaimed. "We _all_ know you fancy —"

The door swung open, and a younger dwarf came stumbling in, red-faced and panting heavily, but a wide small on his face. Dania smiled to herself as she recognized him.

" _Frerin_!" Dís hissed. "What have we told you about walking in unannounced?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he said hastily, "it's just Thorin said — "

He stopped abruptly as his eyes landed on the girl he had rushed in to see.

"Dania!" he said, his smile growing wider, but then he stumbled at seeing his sister's expression. "Dania! Thorin said Dania was here, so I — "

The sudden rapid pulse of Dania's heart drowned out the rest of his sentence. _Had the prince been talking about me?_

"It is so good to see you!" she heard Frerin say and smiled at him, trying to ignore the thumping in her chest.

"It is good to see you too, Frerin," Dania said.

The growing sound of footsteps running up the stairs reached their ears, and suddenly, the door swung open once more to reveal prince Thorin. This time, Dania was thoroughly unable to control her heartbeat, strangely enough.

"Frerin," he spoke in a calm but severe voice, "father wants a word with you."

"But — why?"

Prince Thorin sighed. "I suppose it would have to do with you running off like a madman."

"But, I just wanted to see Dania!" Frerin retorted.

His brother paused for a moment, his eyes landing on Dania for an instant before falling back on Frerin.

"Then you should have waited," he said. "Stop making excuses; you are not a child."

"Only if you'll stop acting like such a josser," Frerin retorted.

Dania's eyes widened, and she saw that the others looked just as taken aback. Thorin looked intently at his brother for a moment before playfully shoving him out of the room. Frerin's laughter echoed from the hallway and Thorin smirked as he shook his head. Then he turned to the girls and fell severe once more.

"Sorry for disturbing you," he said and bowed. His eyes landed momentarily on Dania as he straightened himself, and he nodded his head in greeting before leaving. She desperately tried to suppress her smile.

"I am sorry about that," Dís said once the door was closed shut.

"Your little brother is a devil," Ester said with a small laugh as she shook her head.

"It's no bother at all, Dís," Illiana said. "In any case, we should get going if we don't want to walk outside in the dark."

"Of course," Dis said as she stood up to hug the three ladies.

"It was very nice to meet you, Dania," Illiana added with a smile in my direction.

Once the three of them had exited the room, Dania turned to Dis. "I should go as well — "

"Oh, please stay a little longer!" she said as she grabbed her hand. "We have not even had a chance to talk, just the two of us!"

"Alright," Dania said with a smile as they sat back down on the sofa.

"I have some news," she said, and the brightest smile appeared on her fair face.

Dania leaned in toward her in anticipation.

"I am to be betrothed," she spoke in a breathless voice, excitement strolling through every syllable.

She let out a shocked laugh. "Really? To whom?"

"His name is Frey," she said. "He's so kind and gentle and caring — Oh! I just know you will love him!"

"I'm so happy for you, truly," Dania told her, her smile mirroring her friend's.

The two girls talked and laughed, time passing without notice until someone came in to light a few more candles. Night had fallen. 

"I really must be off now," Dania said reluctantly upon that realization. 

Dís looked out toward the window before turning to Dania. "Will you be alright walking out in the dark like that? By Durin, I am sorry, I had not noticed it was so late!"

"It's no worry, really," she said as Dís gave her an uncertain look. "I've walked in the dark many times before."

This seemed to reassure her. Dania recalled walking only once in the village at this hour. It had been summer, the sky still a soft shade of lavender. Now it was dark as ink, darkness spilling into every little corner of the street. She sucked in a breath as the cold air hit her face and began to walk faster, forcing her eyes to stay out of the shadows, where she could see things that were not actually there. Nothing but the sound of leaves crunching under her feet could be heard as she advanced. The crunching grew louder in her ears, nearer yet more distant than it was before. 

She stopped dead in her tracks. The crunching of the leaves stopped only a moment after. She could no longer feel the cold, yet she shivered. 

Ahead, the cluster of houses came to an end. She could see the outline of old trees with branches springing up like old, wrinkled fingers. The path leading to the house was ahead. Then she looked back, wondering if it had been foolish of to wander out alone. But then again, perhaps it was only her imagination playing tricks on her poor, tired eyes. Opting to believe in the latter, Dania walked ahead, leaving behind the cluster of houses. 

A branch cracked behind her. _No, that had been me_ , she thought as another shiver ran through her. 

Another crack. Fear rose inside her. 

Dania whirled around just in time to see a man approaching. Her eyes widened in fear. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Too late, he was so close he could touch her. And he did. 

She gasped as he pushed her back against a tree. She screamed, but his hand silenced her. Her initial surprise had given him the advantage, and another surge of fear seized her as she realized he was too strong for her to overthrow. Her body did not listen to her mind: she wriggled and squirmed under his grasp, panted and whimpered beneath his silencing hold. His hands roamed beneath her skirt, but she gave a strong kick and he tumbled over. 

A ragged breath escaped Dania's mouth as she took a step forward, but then his hands gripped her from behind. A strangled cry escaped her trembling lips before he silenced her once more. She could hear nothing but her heart thumping wildly in her chest, but she could feel tears flowing down her face and her shoulders trembling as she sobbed. 

Another crack. Louder, more determined. 

Then she was freed from his tight hold. Her heartbeat still thumping in her ears, she shut her eyes, trying to make sense of what had happened, what _was_ happening. At last, silence returned. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder, and the unexpected gentleness of the touch made her jump slightly. 

"It's alright," a deep voice spoke. "It's alright, I'm here."

Dania looked up to see prince Thorin looking down at her as he kneeled by her side. 

"W — what are y — you — "

"Shhhh," he said as he gently lifted her up so that she sat facing him. She barely felt the spark that usually made her blush as his hands touched her skin, her mind overclouded with confusion. An unfamiliar softness was painted on his face as he searched her eyes. Then his face turned dark. "Did he — "

She shook her head, feeling both at ease and tensed as he studied her. A long silence settled between them. Her heartbeat slowed down, but her body trembled still. 

"What were you doing here?" she finally managed to ask.

He frowned as he heard the slight quiver in her voice, and felt his heart like a clenched fist in his chest. "I saw you leave the house alone and thought it unwise for you to venture out alone at this hour."

Another silence. Dania knew not what to say — nor even what to think. 

"Thank you."

"Whatever for?" he asked, visibly confused. 

"For saving me," She said, sharing his confusion, though for different reasons entirely. 

"You do not have to thank me for that," he said softly, "not ever."


	5. It's Not A Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Dania unexpectedly find themselves enjoying a secret moment together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Sun himself is weak when he first rises, and gathers strength and courage as the day gets on." — Charles Dickens

Dania watched the sun slowly rise from the small window in her bedroom, having not enjoyed a single minute of sleep. She felt scared, alone, and most of all, ashamed. She did not understand _why_ she felt ashamed — for how could it possibly be her fault that such a thing had happened? And yet, her insides were foiled up like an old piece of parchment ready to be burned to a crisp in a fire's grasp. 

A part of her was ashamed because she had been completely helpless. She had depended on the prince to save her, and now she was undoubtedly in his debt — but what could a girl like her ever offer a prince in payment for her honour? 

This thought plagued her for the better part of the day until, at last, she came up with a solution. she could not depend on others for protection her whole life — especially not when her own kin was insistent on regarding her as an outsider — and thus came to the radical solution that she must learn do protect herself. 

When night fell, and the streets were deserted at last as the villagers retreated to their homes, Dania left the comfort of her chamber. She walked quickly but silently towards the armoury, not wanting anyone to know what she was up to for she would undoubtedly get in trouble if someone found out. Slowly opening the door, she winced at the creaking sound the door made, which would probably be heard by anyone passing by – not that there would be many people here at this hour. She closed the door behind her but stopped dead in her tracks when she heard someone in the other room. She shook my head and cursed herself for even thinking of coming here in the first place. _Why had she thought this was a good idea?_

The thing to do would have been to turn back and run back home as quickly as possible, but her curiosity clouded her better judgement. She slowly walked towards the sounds to see who was in there and peeked around the corner to get a glimpse, gasping when she saw prince Thorin's naked chest covered in sweat as he swung his sword around. She quickly hid behind the wall and covered her mouth with her hand. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest as the image embedded itself in her memory. The sweat glazed muscles of his sculpted chest, the deep frown of concentration on his face. Oh, _Mahal_. But then she realized she could not hear a thing and her heart began to beat even faster, though for other reasons entirely.

"Hello?" his deep voice said from the other room. "Is someone there?"

Dania turned around quickly and started to run towards the exit but felt her foot get trapped in something and the next thing she knew she landed flat against the ground in a terrible sound of clashing metal. From the other side, the prince raised his sword in the direction of the sound. 

"Who is there?" he asked in a more authoritative tone. Dania sighed in defeat before standing up, careful not to get tangled up in the mess she had created. There was no point in hiding now, he knew very well she was there. She took a careful step out of her hiding place and into the torchlight, revealing herself to him. The harshness that had been painted over his features faded away instantly as his eyes landed on her. 

"Hi, Thorin," Dania said, her voice reeking of embarrassment as she waved her hand shyly at him.

"What are you doing here, Dania?" he asked, a small smile making its way onto his red, sweat-soaked face, managing to take her off guard yet again. She looked down at her hands to hide her blushing face, but the prince saw her burning cheeks, and his own embarrassment grew. 

"I — I was . . . I, er . . . I thought I heard someone crying," Dania said, blurting out the first thing that popped into her head. She furrowed her brows upon hearing herself speak. _I am such a fool_ , she cursed herself. 

"Dania, why are you really here?" He asked her with a smirk on his face. She sighed, knowing she could not — nor should — lie to him.

"I came in here so that I could teach myself how to fight," she admitted with a shrug.

"Why?" he questioned. He did not seem mad, just curious.

"Because — I want to be able to stand up for myself," she told him. "You know if — if something else happens like last week . . ." she said, attempting to sound confident, though the mere memory of the incident made her shiver. 

The prince's face darkened as he clenched his fists, but he remained silent. 

"Who wants to teach a girl, right?" Dania said with a bitter laugh. "I have to do it myself."

The anger that had been boiling beneath the surface was replaced with amusement — but also admiration — as he heard her. "You want to learn how to fight all by yourself?"

The hint of amusement in his voice made Dania want to cower away. "Yes?"

Then he laughed. _Laughed_. _Mahal_ , she thought, i _f he had not been a prince or if I had not been so desperately in awe of this stubborn prince I would have given him a piece of my mind_. Instead, she tried to act as though his behaviour meant nothing to her.

"Why are you laughing?" she asked.

He cleared his throat, still laughing slightly. "Because," he said, "that's funny."

The urge to cower away came back with a vengeance.

"Anyway," Dania said. "I am sorry for disturbing you. I will take my leave now," she said.

Dania started to walk away but then felt him grab her arm. She turned around and looked at him questioningly.

"No stay," he said, making her confusion grow. "I can teach you."

"Really?" she asked, trying not to sound too excited. "Or are you just making fun of me again?"

"I am not making fun of you," he said. "I never was. I am sorry if I offended you. I only meant to say that it was amusing that you thought you could learn to master a sword by yourself. You need a teacher."

Dania could not hide her disappointment, for she knew he was right and knew no one would teach her. But then she saw him staring at her as though he awaited an answer and she smiled slightly at him, finally understanding, and took a step closer. She could feel his hot breath on her face and had to fight the urge not to run her fingers across his chest.

"Alright then. Teach me," she said.

He stepped away and grabbed a sword from the wall. He gave it to her and she stared at it intently.

"First thing you need to know; it's not a toy. It dangerous thing to hold in your hands," he said and Dania rolled her eyes.

"I'm not _stupid_ ," she said.

"I never said you were," he replied. 

She wrapped her hand around the hilt, but as she felt its weight, she chose to hold it tightly with both of her hands.

Thorin tried to suppress a small smile. "One hand."

Dania raised her eyebrows at him. "It's too heavy," she said shyly. 

"It is supposed to be heavy," he said in an amused tone. "You will need to build up your strength."

She sighed and tried to raise it higher with one hand. 

"Here," he said as he approached his apprentice. 

Slowly, he held the sword in mid-air with one hand and positioned her delicate fingers around the hilt with the other. The nearness of his body made another surge of nervousness rise in her. She let out a shaky breath, then - slightly embarrassed, lowered it before holding it in altogether. _Why was breathing so hard?_

As though sensing her inner turmoil, he smirked once more before taking a step back. 

"Plant your feet firmly on the ground," he said, "Always keep sideways to your opponent. That way your chest presents the smallest possible target."

Dania did as he instructed and waited as he studied her, then nodded in approval. She raised the blade in midair once more, the reflection of the torch flame dancing within the steel. 

"Now," he began as he walked toward her, "we will not be practising with these today."

"No?" 

He shook his head and grabbed the sword she held and set it on the ground beside his own blade. Then he grabbed two wasters and handed her one. 

"These are lighter and, well, made out of wood so there is no chance either of us will be stabbed," he said with a chuckle. 

Dania smiled shyly before raising the wooden blade. 

"Try to strike me," he said. 

She took a deep breath before making a cautious jab, and he simply took a small step back to avoid it. 

"Strike forcefully," he instructed. "Do not give your enemy the chance to anticipate you."

She thrust the sword at him again, this time more purposefully. 

"Much better," he said, though he blocked it easily. 

He soon began to attack instead of simply blocking her moves. Dania was quicker than he was, for she was lighter, but he was stronger and much more skilled. He swept his sword at the level of her feet and she jumped slightly to avoid it, causing him to smile and nod in encouragement. She lost myself in his playful gaze for a moment, allowing him to lightly touch her shoulder with. 

"First blood," he said in fake disapproval with a hint of a smile on his face. 

Dania grunted loudly before taking a step forward and striking forcefully, finally managing to touch his side. 

"Blood," she said playfully. 

"Excellent!" he said with a smile, making her heart flutter. "Had enough?"

She nodded, trying to catch her breath. She would have liked nothing more than to stay here with him for much, _much_ longer, but she knew they had to leave before the sun rose. 

"I must admit, you have some skills with a blade," he said as she put the sword back on the wall. She smiled at his words.

"You are very agile," he added. "It is in your blood, surely."

At this Dania fell silent and looked away, feeling the unforgiving tear inside her.

"I did not mean to make you uncomfortable," the prince said as he noted the change in her expression. "But you have nothing to be ashamed of."

She slowly turned to him and let out an angry chuckle. "But I do, though, don't I?"

The prince frowned, and as he stared at her, Dania could not help but let out all her feelings — something she had never done before. 

"My mother was an Elf," she spoke barely above a whisper, as though speaking of it was forbidden. "The very people who betrayed us . . . I am not one of you, and I am reminded of that fact every day."

"You _are_ one of us," he exclaimed, to her surprise. "Do not let anyone tell you otherwise."

When she remained silent, he added, "one day you will come to believe that, and see yourself as I do."

She looked up to him, surprised, touched, but above all confused by his kindness. She wanted to thank him, but she did to know what she would have been thanking him for, and so she remained silent. 

"So what do you say, same time tomorrow?" he asked after a moment. 

"That would be perfect," Dania said with a smile, as though the simple idea of spending more time with him was enough to lift her spirits. She tried to hide her excitement — though unnecessarily, for the prince shared her excitement. "Thank you, prince Thorin."

"I have told you already, please, call me Thorin."

She felt a blush creeping on her cheeks. "Alright. Thank you . . . _Thorin_."

He gave her a small smirk, at which her blushing increased, and she cursed herself for being so easily put off by his presence. 


	6. Of Swords and Flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Friendship, I fancy, means one heart between two." — George Meredith

In the following months, Thorin and Dania spent almost every night in the armoury. According to him, she was making good progress, and as she was eager to prove her worth, she was glad that he found some pride in her progress. To Dania's surprise, she discovered that the prince was not as harsh as he often seemed: inside the cold and severe exterior was a pleasant and even mischievous person who had merely been forced to grow up too fast, burdened by his duties. 

She learned a great deal from him, and _of_ him, during their lessons. He told her of the pranks he often pulled on his younger brother, and how poor Frerin always fell for them, even after the hundredth time. 

"One time," he said as they sat on the floor after a tiring hand to hand combat lesson, during which she had finally managed to throw him off his feet — although he had been easy on her, "Frerin ruined one of my favourite blades by carving out drawings on it, so I stole all his boots and hid them around the mountain. Then he had no choice but to go to his axe lesson barefoot —" Thorin shook his head as he sighed, "my father was furious, and when he found out I was behind it, he put me on the night watch for a month — during winter, no less."

The pair laughed heartily as they reminisced about better times in Erebor for the remainder of the night, as they often did nowadays. 

"I always wished I had siblings," Dania admitted. 

He looked at her for a moment before he spoke up. "You are as dear as a sister to Dìs, you know?"

She smiled, grateful for his kind words. "I love her as such as well."

"You are like family," he added as he helped her get back on her feet, knowing it was well past time for them to leave. "Frerin is also very fond of you."

"I know," she said with a smile. 

"As am I," he said as they walked in the dark, deserted street. 

Dania looked at him for a moment before settling her eyes on the road ahead and said nothing. She could not help but feel disappointed at the implied meaning. _He thinks of me as a sister_ , she thought with regret, for she could not deny how differently she was beginning to feel about him. _Of_ course _he thinks of you only as a sister_ , another voice sounded in her head, _what did you expect?_

The next morning brought more laughter and general liveliness as Dís, Iliana and Dania took a walk toward the woods, near the outskirts of the village. They talked about a variety of subjects as they picked small berries and wildflowers, and Dania was glad of their company. 

The sun was shining bright that day as the mellifluous sound of birds overhead floated to Dania's ears. She shut her eyes for a moment to enjoy the buzzing sounds of nature as she soaked up the sun like a flower bud after a long winter. The sound of the wind ruffling the leaves still clinging to their branches mixed itself with the crunching of those who had let go and fallen to the ground. The air was crisp, but fresh — a contrast to the suffocating atmosphere of the village. She was glad to be able to enjoy this moment of peace among the animals and trees, but mostly, she was glad she could enjoy it with people she could call friends. 

The sound of hooves coming nearer interrupted her quietude. The three girls exchanged a quick glance before the riders appeared within seeing distance and she relaxed. 

"It's only Thorin and Frerin," Dania told them.

"However can you tell from all this way?" Iliana said, her voice heavy with curiosity and admiration. 

Dania said nothing, not wanting to dwell on the reason behind her acute eyesight. 

"That would be the Elvish blood in her," Dís said. 

Dania frowned, but to her surprise, both of them smiled at her, as though they had just shared a secret. She felt Dís' arm on her own and turned to offer her a shy smile, wishing desperately to change the subject. To Dania's relief, she noticed another rider approaching, only slightly behind the princes. 

"There's someone else with them," she said. 

They turned to look in the direction of the riders — who were now in seeing distance of all — and Dania heard Dís gasp softly. 

"What is it?" she asked, concerned. 

Dís turned back to face her friends, a grin playing at her lips. 

"Frey is with them," she said excitedly. 

Illiana and Dania exchanged a knowing look before turning to the Dwarves who were now slowing down their ponies near them. 

"Good morning, ladies," Frerin said with an air of courtly elegance as he dismounted his pony. "Are you enjoying this fine weather?"

Before any of them could answer, Thorin grabbed his brother from behind and ruffled up his hair, making Dania smile. 

"Father asked us to keep an eye on you," Thorin told Dís, ignoring his brother's pleas for mercy. "Though I did not think you needed us," he said as he gave Dania a knowing look, making her blush. 

"I'm glad at least one of you knows I can take care of myself," Dís said, oblivious to her brother's meaning. 

A silence followed. Slowly, they all turned to stare as Dís and Frey looked at each other shyly. 

"Dania," Thorin broke the silence, making the Dís and Frey jump out of their trance, "have you met Frey?"

Dania shook her head at his teasing tone, but could not hide the smirk from her face. 

"It's lovely to meet you," she said as Frey turned to her, his face reddening at an alarming speed. 

"Likewise," he said simply. 

Dís mouthed an apology, her face as red as the one who had caused her to act in such a way in the first place. Dania shrugged it off and shared another small smile with Thorin. 

Another silence ensued. 

"I think we may have disturbed the pleasant time they were having," Frerin told his companions, blind to the current of desire flowing between the young couple. 

"Do not presume to know so much about ladies, _Frerin_ ," Thorin said in a mockingly patronizing tone. 

"Oh, because you know more than I on the matter?" The younger prince retorted. 

Unable to control herself, Dania let out a short burst of laughter, causing Thorin to raise his eyebrow at her. Frerin, on the other hand, grinned widely at her, as though glad he had managed to involve another person in abusing his brother. 

"I think it would be better for all if we were to allow Dís and Frey a moment of privacy," Illiana said with a knowing smile, "do you not agree?" she asked Dania. 

"Oh, I don't think they could say no to such an offer," Dania replied, knowing full well Dís' blush would have grown to a burning level. 

Thorin, Frerin, and Iliana began to walk away. Dís' eyes burned through Dania's as she began to follow the others, a sheepish smile on her face. She winked at the princess, blushing when she saw that Frey had noticed — and quickly caught up to the others. 

"If father meant for us to keep an eye on Dís how is it that we just left her go?" Frerin asked. 

"She is not alone," Thorin said. 

"Still, I do not understand it," the young prince said. 

Thorin chuckled. "When you will find someone that makes your heart long to be with them at every moment, you will understand."

Dania stared at him incredulously. "I did not know you to be such a romantic," she said with a smirk. 

He said nothing, but gave her a small smile, filling her heart with a longing much akin to the one he just described. 

"Not all of us are as lucky as they," Iliana mused. 

The three of them turned to look at her, but she merely shook her head. "Do not look at me like that," she said with a short laugh. "I am not being sentimental, only realistic."

They continued to walk as they conversed lightly, but then a strong wind scattered about the contents of Dania's basket. She sighed and bent down to gather my things, not noticing that Iliana and Frerin had kept walking, unaware of the incident, as Thorin bent down to help her. 

Dania came to the realization that Thorin had bent down to help her when his hand brushed hers as they reached for the same handful of wildflowers. She laughed shyly as she grabbed it quickly and stood, only then noticing the absence of their other companions.

"I am more accustomed to seeing you hold a sword, not a basket full of flowers," Thorin said suddenly, seemingly unaffected by the absence of the others. 

Dania chuckled. "Do you have a preference?"

It was his turn to chuckle. "The sword, of course," he replied.

"' _Of course_ '?"

"It fits your character better," he said with a small smirk. 

Dania stopped walking and turned to face him, her brows furrowed. "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

He turned to face her, that irresistible smirk still plastered on his face. "You are strong and sharp," he said, his eyes boring into hers as though they were looking straight into her soul, "and above all, you have a courage that I admire greatly."

Her mouth stood agape as she stared at him, bereft of the capability of speech as her heart was filled with newfound affection and longing, and, most of all, reverence for the Dwarf before her. The woods seemed to have become still around them as she fought for the courage to speak. No birds sang, and the wind seemed to rattle the leaves with a more fervent urgency. 

Not knowing what to say, and all too aware of the deep blush on her cheeks, Dania snorted with laughter. " _Please_ ," she said. 

But Thorin stood with an unfaltering expression as he gazed at her. "You may not think of yourself as having any of these qualities, but I see that you embody them more than anyone I know — _tâhalj._ "

His words had made her heart swell up once more, but his final word forced Dania to come face to face with a reality that continued to hit her like the surge of an ice-cold river. _Friend_. _He called me_ friend — _of course he did, he would never regard me as anything other than that. Friend. Why could I not get that in my head?_

Frerin's voice calling out to them from further in the woods forced Dania to acknowledge the reality of her surroundings. Thorin was still gazing at her intently, his face showing a faint sign of what seemed to be pain, though she understood it not. Frerin's voice sounded again — he was getting closer. 

Dania sighed, then gave Thorin a small smirk, trying to ignore the storm raging inside her. "Well, if we are to turn this question to you, I would say you are more like the flower," she said, obtaining an incredulous look from him. Dania simply shook her head and laughed as she walked over to Frerin and Iliana, leaving Thorin alone to ponder on the meaning of her words. Thorin could not help but smile to himself as she walked away. 


	7. Gold Long Gone, But Not Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions arise among the royal family. A friendly sparring match makes another person complicit to Thorin and Dania's unlikely friendship.

As though aware that the clement weather had been sufficiently enjoyed, Ulmo had cast away the sun and soaked the land in torrents of rainfall. The downpour washed away the remnants of the summer, brushing away the leaves from the streets and soaking the dirt roads so that the ground was so spongy that Dania's boots sank into it as she walked. As such, the hem of her skirt was wet and muddied. Upon making that observation, she sighed in irritation, not having the spirits to deal with the embarrassment that was her appearance.

Fortunately, Nàl, Ester, and Iliana were not with Dís when Dania greeted her and, being the dear friend she was, came to her rescue. She quickly dragged Dania to her bedroom, where — she informed her — she would lend Dania one of her own dresses. 

As they dashed across the hallway toward the stairs, Dania caught a glimpse of the sitting room, which was unusually packed with people. Dania recognized the King and his son, and near them, Thorin, standing beside her father, both of them bearing stern expressions on their faces as they stared at the other Dwarfs around them. Just as Dania was about to question Dís on the subject, a loud curse was heard, followed by what sounded like the breaking of glass. 

"What in Durin's name is going on?" Dania asked her in a fervid whisper. 

Dís gave Dania a wide-eyed look before taking her arm and shoving her in the bedroom, quickly shutting the door behind them. 

"I am so sorry!" Dís said, clearly embarrassed about something as she shook her head in a defeated manner. "I should have told you not to come, but I could not bear this alone anymore!"

"It's alright, Dís," Dania said, though quite confused. "Why do you think I shouldn't have come?"

Dís took a deep gulp of air, as though she had nervously been holding her breath. "It's my grandfather," she sputtered. 

"What about him?" Dania asked curiously as she sat down beside her friend on her bed. 

"He has been talking about Erebor for weeks now," Dís said, making her frown, "but in most unusual ways. Where there was once longing and sadness in his speech, there is only anger. That was him — shouting downstairs — he's —" she paused, as though to steady herself, before she whispered one word that made a shiver run through Dania's spine, "— he's _sick_."

"You mean —?"

She nodded her head fervidly. "He had seemed better, I thought, but now . . ." she trailed off as she stared into the distance, her eyes filled fear. 

"Dís, it's going to be alright," Dania said to reassure her, though she knew not how it would possibly be alright. 

Dís let out another sigh. "I don't think he will recover from it this time."

Dania was about to contradict her once more in the hopes of offering her some reassurance, but something in her tone made her frown: Dís sounded resigned. 

"Why ever not?" Dania asked. 

"He wants to reclaim Khazad-dûm," Dís said in a low voice, not as though she was afraid she might be overheard, but as though she was afraid of hearing those words herself. 

"What?" Dania exclaimed, unable to control herself. 

" _I know_!" Dís shrieked. Her eyes went wide. "Dania, I am so scared!"

Dania moved to sit closer to her and engulfed her in a tight embrace, not knowing what else she could do to give her comfort. Dís leaned into Dania's touch as she wrapped her arms around her in return. Dania could sense Dís' uneasiness as she shivered in her hold, but was reassured as her shoulders relaxed, her anxieties letting go of their grip on her, if only for a moment. 

They were soon interrupted by a soft knock on the door, which was opened to reveal a tall Dwarrowdam. Though she was dressed plainly, she was very beautiful, and she had an air about her befitting a queen. Dania knew her to be Lady Ádís, Dís' mother, and upon recognizing her, let go of Dís and stood to curtsy. 

"Dania, is it?" she asked in a melodious voice. 

"Yes, My Lady," Dania replied. 

She smiled then, and Dania's heart was filled with warmth at having her look upon her with what she could only imagine was a motherly bearing. 

"Why don't you girls come down, we will be having dinner soon," she said. 

"Oh, I — "

She seemed to understand Dania's embarrassment and immediately placed her hand upon her arm. "We would love for you to join us."

"That is very kind, My Lady," Dania replied shyly. 

When they made their way into the dining room, Dania saw that her father was present, and quickly moved to stand beside him. But as he asked her how she was, her eyes fell upon Thorin's boring into her own. She gave him a small smile, all too aware of the people surrounding them, but was caught off guard by her father placing a tight arm on her shoulder. She glanced up at him, only to see him eyeing the prince suspiciously, and felt a surge of nervousness rise in the pit of her stomach. 

Dinner past by in a customary fashion, everyone sharing laughs and small talk, though tension was simmering beneath the surface. Only once the table had been cleared out after dessert did it come to a boil as the conversation taking place at the other end of the table had evolved to raised voices. 

"You cannot mean to — "

"For the last time," King Thrór hissed, "this is my decision, not yours."

"This is madness!" his son retorted. 

The rest of the table had fallen silent as everyone watched and waited nervously.

"Khazad-dûm is our ancestral land, I do not mean to let it stand in enemy hands any longer!" The King barked, as though forgetting about the presence of others at his table.

"Father — "

"Must I remind you who is king?" He exclaimed, causing his son to fall silent as everyone exchanged nervous glances. "Good. Then it is settled."

He spoke not another word as he stood and left the room, the table filled with less cheer than in a graveyard. Prince Thráin and his wife began to talk in frantic whispers, and soon most reengaged in their discussions, though more hesitantly. Dania could not bring herself to partake in the idle chat anymore. Only one other person seemed to share her feelings: Thorin.

He was standing to leave as she watched him. He, too, seemed to have removed himself from the happenings of the evening. His face bore his usual stern expression, but Dania saw a lingering sorrow in his eyes that betrayed his true emotions. As though sensing someone's eyes on him, Thorin looked around the room until his gaze settled on Dania. The two stared at each other as he approached her.

He bowed slightly in passing and whispered in her ear as he did so in a manner that no one would even notice: "meet me there."

He did not have to say where. She knew. What they both did not know was that Frerin had seen their exchange and was now curiously eyeing his brother as he walked away. 

It was dark out when Dania finally managed to leave the house unnoticed. The rain had stopped, too. It was eerily silent in the empty streets and Dania was eager to enter the armoury, but it was just as silent there. 

"Thorin?" She called out hesitantly. 

He was leaning against the far wall, his sword at his feet, and he had a defeated look on his face. The same look Dís had born earlier that day. 

"Dany," he said as she walked toward him, sounding as though he was coming out of a world far removed from reality. 

Dania's heart fluttered upon hearing the nickname only he called her and which she loved dearly, but that small happiness could not surmount the ache that bloomed in her belly upon seeing him look so forlorn. 

"What's wrong?" she asked tentatively. She rarely pressed him, for she always felt unsure about how much was suitable for them to share. Yet, despite Dania's incessant reticence, Thorin nearly always confided in her. But this time it was different. 

Thorin's inner turmoil was apparent to Dania, who could so easily read his deepest sentiments without even trying. 

"Will you be going as well?" She asked with trembling lips, the array of emotions she was suppressing threatening to spill out. 

This question took him by surprise, and upon seeing his shock, Dania extinguished whatever he might have said by belittling the sentimentality of her question. "I shouldn't have asked, I'm sorry — it's none of my business." 

Dania's sudden change of humour made Thorin frown. 

"I — no," he said with a hesitation that was so unlike him. "That is, my grandfather expressed the wish to leave us out of the matter."

Dania did not have the heart to ask whom Thorin meant by "us," but she was reassured to know that it at least included him. 

"He said he had had enough of the poverty and scorn of Men," Thorin said, and Dania was surprised to hear him elaborate, even though he nearly always confided in her. "He did not answer right away where it is he was planning to go, but after my father shouted at him, he let it slip that he wished to reclaim Moria.

"We told him it was futile — that it would take an army the likes of which does not walk this earth to defeat Durin's Bane —" he took a deep breath as he shook his head, "but then he said he neither needed nor wanted an army." 

Dania wanted nothing more than to comfort him, but she knew neither how to do so, nor if it was even wise of her to think of such things. For reasons beyond her understanding, she wanted to hold him in her arms and never let go until she knew whatever sorrows pierced his heart had been banished for good. But she forced herself to remember her place — and his. He was a prince — the heir to the throne of Erebor! And not only was she far from royalty, but she was also not even fully Dwarvish. No matter how much she pushed aside her Elvish blood, how much she saw herself as their kin, she knew others would not so easily dismiss her blood, and how much that pulled her apart from Thorin. 

Her spiralling thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door. The pair exchanged a nervous look before stepping away from each other — having stood closer to one another than they would dare admit even to themselves. 

" _Frerin_?" Thorin said, half relieved to see his brother and half worried that he would bring him and Dania into trouble. 

Dania — who had still been wholly focused on Thorin — peeled her eyes away from him and turned to the newcomer. 

"What are you doing here?" Thorin asked with brotherly authority. 

Frerin hesitated, but knowing there was no point in lying — both because he was no good at it and because Thorin would find out the truth either way — proceeded to explain himself. "I heard you too saying you were meeting somewhere, so I followed Dania."

"Have you been listening all this time?" Thorin asked suddenly, causing Frerin to look at him in confusion, and Dania to glare at him in startlement. 

"I, er — no?" Frerin said. "What are you doing here, anyway?" 

Dania and Thorin exchanged a quick, knowing glance, which passed unseen. 

"Dania is learning to fence," Thorin said. 

"Really?" Frerin said excitedly. "Is she any good?"

Dania chuckled. "' _She_ ' is right here, you know?" she said. "And I would be glad to show you myself so that you may form your own opinion on the matter."

Frerin exchanged a look with his brother, who merely smirked, knowing full well what Dania intended. 

"Alright then," Frerin said, mistaking his brother's air for approval. "Now, don't worry," he told Dania as he pulled his sword out of its scabbard, "I'll go easy on you."

Dania exchanged a mischievous look with Thorin before she turned to Frerin. "That's very kind of you," she told him with the most innocent smile she could muster. 

Thorin handed Dania her sword, and she moved to position herself before the younger prince, standing with the seeming acquittance of a novice. She shared a knowing look with Thorin, who was smirking despite himself. 

Frerin took immediate notice of Dania's unlearned stance and smirked unknowingly, revealing to Dania that the young prince had fallen into her trap like a motherless cub. Too focused on his feeling of superiority, Frerin did not have time to register Dania shifting into a more adequate position before she was already jumping to attack, her skirts billowing around her as she moved.

But the prince was quick to react, moving swiftly to avoid the blow. The two blades connected with a ringing clash as the opponents measured one another. Frerin stepped back, his sword whistling through the air as he assumed a defensive position. Dania tilted her head in questioning, mischievously enticing Frerin — who could never resist such open taunting. 

From aside, Thorin watched curiously as the pair circled each other. He attentively observed their careful steps, and as they moved in to attack once again, neither taking the lead or falling behind, he came to the surprising conclusion that they seemed to be of equal strength. This was all the more astonishing given that Frerin had held a sword long before Dania had even dared to think of holding one. 

But Dania was lighter than the prince, and so she could move more quickly, and she tired less easily. Just as she did with Thorin, she pressed her advantage by only tentatively engaging in the fight, making sure to tire her opponent before she would call forth her full strength. But where Thorin was prudent and judicious, Frerin was too eager to prove himself, and thus not heedful enough of Dania's apparent indisposition. 

Soon enough, Frerin began to move more slowly, his attacks becoming more disorganized. Dania twirled her sword in her hands as she took note of Frerin's change of behaviour and moved in to attack. Frerin managed to block the blow, but he failed to register Dania's foot, and before he knew it, it came into contact with his legs, causing him to fall to the ground. He moaned in pain and cursed to himself as he scrambled to reach for his weapon, which had fallen out of his reach. But before he could grab it, a figure appeared in front of him and he felt the cool of a blade on his cheek. He looked up to her, dumbfounded. 

"I never said I would go easy on _you,_ " Dania said, her chest heaving with exertion and her eyes flashing with elation. 

Frerin chuckled and stood without much difficulty, despite a pain in his legs that he knew would become deep bruises.

As though coming out of a trance, Dania blushed and pressed a hand to his shoulder. "Are you alright? I'm so sorry!" she spoke, but a smile still lit her features. 

"I'm alright," Frerin replied breathlessly. "Where on earth did that come from?" 

She shrugged. "I learned from the best, I suppose," she said, smiling shyly as she glanced at Thorin, who had been eyeing her with poorly concealed admiration. 

"Far from the best, I assure you," Thorin said, causing Dania to shake her head at his modesty. "Still, you fought well."

Dania could not ignore the swelling of her heart upon hearing his appraisal. She merely smiled at him, not knowing what else to say. He smiled back. From aside, Frerin eyed them curiously, the complicity that the two shared not escaping even _his_ notice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As some of you may have begun to notice, this story will follow more closely the events of the books (i.e. The Hobbit, but also Appendix A of The Lord of the Rings).  
> Also, for the purposes of this story, Frerin is younger than Dania, and thus younger than Dís, though this is a detail you can choose to ignore if you prefer it to be the other way around (as it is in the book).


	8. Dark Times Ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nár returns from Moria. The War of the Dwarves and Orcs begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "There are shadows because there are hills." — E.M. Foster

There was no news from the King for months. He had left on the eve of winter, with a sole companion, Nár. No armies, as had been his wish. 

His absence plagued Thorin, but he made no sign of it. He knew that, as the heir to the throne of Erebor, it was his responsibility, nay his duty, to appear strong in these hard times, especially in light of his father's apparent distress. Thráin was convinced that his father had been killed, and these dark thoughts angered him to no end. He had begun to talk of war and, worst of all, of going to Moria himself. Thorin hoped against all the odds that his grandfather was alive, but if he had fallen as his father claimed, Thorin knew he could not bear to lose his father as well. 

Despite Thorin's predisposition to keep his feelings hidden at all costs, Dania could see that he was troubled, and she knew precisely by what. As ever, she did not press him, did not force him to share with her his worries, but she could not bear to see him so evidently in pain. Her growing feelings for him — feelings which she had long fought to ignore but that she now began to understand more clearly — did not help. She wished she was able to comfort him, hold him, kiss him until the smile she loved so dearly would come to light on his face once more, but she could not. 

Her feelings brought her almost as much sorrow as seeing Thorin in such a state of despair. She cursed herself day and night for having let such a thing happen, for she had let herself become a prisoner of a ludicrous love. She felt whole when she was with him. He made her feel special, even appreciated, but she was forced to remind herself that these were objects of her feeble imagination. He was a _prince_ , and she but a girl of conjectured outlandish decent. Even if he shared her love — a thought that tortured Dania's childish hopes — their love could not be. A _prince_ , she reminded herself over and over again in hopes that her heart would come to reason, but it could not be swayed. Her love for him was a feather of lead; his presence enraptured her as much as it dismayed her. And so Dania hated to see Thorin in pain because she knew that whoever would one day have the privilege to hold him in their arms; they would not be her. 

"You have to focus," Thorin told her for the hundredth time. 

Dania sighed, trying to shake away her sombre thoughts. "Sorry," she muttered. 

Prince Thráin was preoccupied with diplomatic matters with other clan chiefs, and his father had unceremoniously dismissed Thorin after a particularly heated debate. As a result, he and Dania had decided to go out in the woods near the village so that she could work on her archery skills, which, for reasons beyond her understanding, were still all too rudimentary. 

"You do not have to be sorry," Thorin said in a soothing voice. "Just concentrate."

She inhaled deeply and adjusted the position of the bow in her hands, straightening her shoulders though her stance still felt off somehow. She heard Thorin chuckle softly and let her shoulders slump back down. 

"What is it now?" she asked, slightly exasperated at her repeated failures. 

"Your hold on the bow is wrong," he said, sounding much calmer than she did. "Here."

He moved in closer and flattened her palm before repositioning her fingers so that the string lay in the groove of the first joint of the three fingers holding it. Then he stepped back to study her position and nodded. 

"Better," he remarked. 

Dania huffed. "Only because you did it for me."

"Just try it," he said, ignoring her captiousness. 

She took a deep breath and focused her gaze on the makeshift target they had placed on a tree ahead. She became one with the bow as every fibre in her body stood on the edge, measuring and assessing her surroundings. Then she released the arrow, which whistled through the air until it hit the bole of the tree with a thud, straight on the mark. Her aim was never the problem; in fact, the precision with which she hit the target amazed Thorin, but it was always the _bloody_ positioning of her fingers that caused her trouble. 

"Excellent!" Thorin said with a small smile that warmed Dania's heart despite her better judgment. "Try it again."

Dania did as he instructed. She grabbed another arrow and nocked it, her fingers wrapping themselves tentatively around the string as she struggled to assume the correct position. She caught Thorin's eye and, suddenly remembering, flattened her palm, which earned her an enthusiastic nod from him. She focused on the target once more and released the arrow, which embedded itself in the trunk so close to the other arrow that they seemed to be one. She smiled to herself, glad to have finally managed it on her own, but then her eyes caught a moving figure far off in the woods. The person was coming from deeper inside the woods, not from the village. She frowned. 

"Someone is coming," she said as she took a step toward the newcomer to try and get a better glimpse. 

Thorin frowned and turned in the direction of her glance, but he could not see as far as her. 

"Who is it?" he asked. 

Dania was about to tell him she could not possibly know every person that passed in these woods, but her frown deepened as she realized that the person was, in fact, a Dwarf. And as they approached, she saw that their clothes were torn and bloodied in more places than one. She let out a horrified gasp. 

"It's Nár!" 

Dania made another horrifying realization: he was alone. Thorin must have noticed this too, for he bolted in his direction without another word. 

"Thorin!" Dania exclaimed as she ran behind him, not caring that the hem of her skirt was getting ruined by the muddied ground. 

"Nár!" Thorin called out when they were but a few feet away. 

"Thorin," the Dwarf said in a breathless voice. 

"Where is my grandfather?" Thorin asked with only a small quiver in his voice betraying his emotions. "Where is the King?" 

***

Nár had not rested since he had begun his journey back from Moria. He was exhausted and evidently troubled by what he had experienced, but Thorin had insisted on knowing where his grandfather was, and so he had been forced to recount his tale. 

"I begged him to beware," Nár assured him, as though trying to wash away the guilt he felt, "but Thrór took no heed of me, and walked in proudly as an heir that returns," he explained. "He did not come back."

This statement had shocked Thorin to his core, for he had been so sure that — beyond all hopes — his grandfather was unarmed. Upon seeing the expression on his face, Dania's heart shattered, and she wished that Nár had stopped talking there. But he went on. 

"I stayed near for days in hiding, hoping beyond all hope that I would see him walk out from the shadows," he shook his head as he spoke. "Then, one day, I heard a loud shout and the blare of a horn, and a body was flung out on the steps — "

At this, Thorin let out a broken gasp, and — without thinking — Dania placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort, and for a moment, Nár disappeared. It was just the two of them as they looked at each other, their eyes communicating more deeply than words ever could. Upon seeing Thorin's composure slowly come back, Nár went on, making Dania once more wish that he would just stop talking. 

"I began to creep near, my mind racing as I tried to convince myself that this was _not_ Thrór. It could _not_ be him. Alas, it was," his eyes widened in horror then, indicating to the pair that he was reliving this horrid event. He seemed to have forgotten about their presence as growing anger flashed in his eyes, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared. "Then a voice came from within the gate. 

"'Come on, beardling,' it called, 'We can see you. There is no need to be afraid today: we need you as a messenger.'

"Thus, I came up and found that my eyes had not deceived me: it was indeed the body of Thrór that lay before my eyes, but the head was severed and lay face downwards."

Dania felt Thorin tremble beneath her grasp, and her heart tightened in her chest once more. She squeezed his shoulder, even knowing that this would do nothing to ease his pain. 

"The Orcs began to laugh from the shadows within the gate, and the voice said, 'If _beggars_ will not wait at the door, but sneak in to try thieving, that is what we do to them. If any of your people poke their foul beards in here again, they will face the same. Go and tell them so!'

"' _Thieves_ ,' he called us when _they_ are the thieves! They are the ones that have no right to be in our sacred halls, and now they had committed a crime beyond anything I could have imagined. Yet it was not the end of it. 

"The Orc laughed again — a twisted, _evil_ laugh — and said, 'If his family wish to know who is now King here, the name is written on his face. I wrote it! I _killed_ him! I am the master!'

"And so I took a step toward the body and turned the head, only to see branded on the brow in the runes of our tongue the name 'Azog.' The name has been branded in my heart ever since.

"I stooped to take the head, but the Orc exclaimed, 'Drop it! Be off! Here is your fee, beggar-beard!' A small bag struck me, and I later found upon inspection that it held a few coins of little worth.

"And so I fled, but not without casting a last glance when I found myself far enough from the Orcs. I wish I had not done so, for I saw that Orcs had come from the gates and were — hacking up the body and — and flinging the pieces to black crows."

At this, he began to weep. Dania knew not how to react. She looked to Thorin, but the prince was already moving to comfort the old Dwarf. Nár had been Thrór's most trusted advisor, and his closest friend, as Dania had learned from her father. She could not even imagine the horrors that haunted Nár's mind after having witnessed such a scene. She was suddenly brought back to the day the wretched dragon had burned down her home, and her mother with it. She had been but a little girl, but the pain of it still pierced her heart like a thousand daggers going through her flesh. And yet she had not witnessed her mother's death firsthand. Nár, on the other hand, had been forced to watch as Orcs defiled their King's body. She could not imagine what he must have felt. 

"That _filthy_ Orc will pay for this."

The intense anger that filled his tone made Dania almost doubt that the words had actually come from Thorin. She gazed at him in shock and found herself unable to move. She was suddenly filled with fear, for she knew that Thorin would not take such a thing lightly, and as such, that the sorrows that had plagued him for months were now branded in his heart — perhaps forever. 

***

King Thráin was just as furious as his son, if not more. The tension that had begun to grow between Thorin and his father was now unbearable to stand. They shouted at each other constantly, one talking of war and honour, and the other attempting to shield his people from suffering any more grief. But in the end, King Thráin declared that this insult could not be borne, and at once, he sent messengers bearing the tale, north, east, and west, to Houses of other Fathers. 

Upon hearing the news, Dania was seized with terror. Not, because she was afraid of Orcs and war, perhaps as she should have been, but because she was frightened of the thought that Thorin would have to leave to venture into his father's reckless quest for revenge. At the same time, however, she felt the weight of Thorin's loss as though it was her own, and sometimes she could not feel anything but a desire for things to be put right. 

For six years, King Thráin led groups of Dwarves into the mountains in the East, sacking Orc strongholds until there were very few of the vile creatures left in these parts of the world. Their victories brought hope to the Dwarves, a sentiment they had not dared to believe could return to their people. 

Thorin had rarely partaken in these raids, having been forced, along with his brother, to remain in Dunland to watch over the people — and their sister. Dania had been so glad of this and had felt even more guilty for feeling so. At least, she thought, she had someone to spend time with when her father left with the King. 

It was snowing lightly as Dania walked toward the forge one afternoon. She tugged her cloak around her tightly, much more indisposed to cold weather than she once was, but the sight that caught her eyes when she reached the forge warmed her at once. The front door was ajar, and she could see Thorin inside. He was shirtless, his broad back sheened with sweat as he swung the hammer over and over in strokes like clockwork. She felt her heart reach out to him and had to restrain herself from stepping inside to run her fingers around the scars that marked his muscles. 

As Thorin struck the blade against the face of the anvil, he felt a cool wind brush his back. He turned around to shut the door but froze when he saw her standing in the doorway, her face flushed, though not because of the heat, as he was inclined to believe. 

"Dany," he said, managing to make her heart beat even faster than it already was, "what are you doing here?"

"I, er — " she cursed herself for being so easily unsettled by his appearance, "Frerin gave me these for you to sharpen," she said as she handed him the weapons. 

"He's got you doing errands for him?" he said with a chuckle as he shook his head. 

Dania gave a small laugh. "It's alright, really," she said as her eyes wandered down to his chest. "I don't mind."

Thorin caught her glance and, mistaking the redness of her cheeks for embarrassment at being forced to look upon him in such a state, he quickly grabbed his shirt and covered himself, trying to ignore the scorching heat. He did not know how she could be standing in front of him in her cloak without looking as sweaty and dishevelled as him. In fact, he could not believe how beautiful she was, in this instant, as much as at any other time. 

"I was just about to go, actually," he spoke in hopes of forgetting about the weight of his embarrassment. "I will walk with you."

She nodded and stepped out into the street, gladly receiving the cool wind on her blazing cheeks. Her heart was beating so rapidly she thought it might hop out of her chest. She took a deep breath to settle herself and hoped that he had not noticed the redness of her cheeks, nor her foolishly wandering gaze. But she could not help herself but gaze intently at him as he stepped out, somehow looking even more handsome. They shared a small smile, but walked in silence, making Dania grow nervous at the thought that he was most likely embarrassed by her behaviour because he had noticed her stare. 

"Any word from your father?" she asked, trying to push away her thoughts.

He shook his head but soon thought of the worry she must be feeling. "Do not worry. I am sure your father is fine. I am sure they are both fine," he said to comfort her. 

"I know they are," she said. 

They began to hear loud footsteps approaching them and, as though prompted by her speech, the King and Dania's father appeared, followed by numerous Dwarves that had accompanied them. 

"Father!" Dania exclaimed as she rushed to embrace him, a smile appearing on her face. 

"Dania!" He said as he hugged his daughter. " _Mizimith_ , how are you?" 

"Quite well," she reassured him.

Suddenly remembering herself, she turned to face the King and curtsied, but his eyes were fixed on his son. Dania looked nervously to Thorin, but he did not seem bothered by his father's glare as he offered her a small smile, which seemed to have passed unseen by the adults. 

"What news from the mountains?" Thorin asked, his voice becoming grave, even more so than usual. 

"I think we can safely assume that the Orcs have been banished away for good," King Thráin said, but Mimir's face was dark, bearing an expression that spoke more heavily than he ever would be allowed to say aloud. 

When they reached the large stone house that had become the royal family's place of residence, Frerin had rushed to greet them and upon hearing the news that the Orcs had seemingly been defeated, he had called for a celebration, which the others agreed to, though somewhat less enthusiastically. 

Dania had been conversing with Dís, Nàl, Ester, and Illiana. She was more intent on simply watching the people around her, but some of Ester's words floated to her ears, making her shake her head at the frivolous gossip she was yet again propagating. 

"You know, Dwalin says — "

"Oh, what has _dear_ Dwalin to say about them?" Nàl teased, making us all laugh lightly. 

"He says that it is unlikely the war will be over any time soon," she said, ignoring her friend. 

Dania and Dís shared a knowing look at this, but instead, Illiana spoke. "Oh, can we please talk about anything else?"

"I heard that Prince Thorin has been seen going to the armoury at night — "

"What is wrong with that?" Dís interrupted her in irritation. 

Ester gave her pointed look. "He does not go alone."

At this, Dania felt her cheeks flare up once more. She continued to look around the room, in hopes that they would not see her distress, or of having a chance to calm herself down. 

"What in Durin's name are you talking about?" 

"Maybe he has a lover!" Ester exclaimed in a hushed whisper.

At this Dís laughed. "You think my brother has a lover? Clearly you do not know him."

"What makes you so sure that it is not possible?" Ester questioned. "He is not completely unattractive."

Dania turned to her with raised eyebrows, feeling vexed by Ester's snide remark. _Was she blind?_ Dania asked herself, not believing for one second that anyone could think ill of Thorin, even if it was only about his appearance. 

"I am sure many girls would find him more than suitable," Nàl nodded in agreement. 

"Can we please talk about anything other than my brother's love life?" Dís pleaded. 

"Oh, please!" Ester responded. "A Dwarf like that? He must be a beast in bed!" 

" _Ester_!" Dís reproached in a loud voice. 

But Dania paid them no mind. Upon hearing Ester, she had felt her whole world shatter around her. Of course, she was not the only one to be interested in Thorin — how could she be? He was so . . . _gorgeous_. But the truth was that she had let herself envision a world where he was hers. Not in a possessive way, of course, but rather, she had consoled herself by believing that at least if she could not have him, no one would. It seemed so silly now, why had she ever let herself believe such an idiotic, obtuse thing when nothing had ever concretely pointed to such an outcome? 

Thorin was standing not far from Dania, not speaking to anyone. He had long abandoned trying to take part in the happenings of the evening and had retreated to his own thoughts. He could not forget what his grandfather had last said to him. He had been thinking of it ever since. Although his father had known that the King's decision was final, he had still tried to persuade him. He had still tried to stop him, even at the very last minute when Thorin had lost all hope of making him see reason. His grandfather had then given his ring — the last of the Seven Rings — to his father and had spoken words of consolation that had only unsettled Thorin all the more. 

_"This may prove the foundation of new fortune for you yet, though that seems unlikely. But it needs gold to breed gold," Thrór had said._

_"Surely you do not think of returning to Erebor?" Thráin had asked._

_"Not at my age," Thrór said, easing his son and grandson for a shortlived moment. "Our_ _vengeance on Smaug I bequeath to you and your sons."_

Thorin already felt the burden of these words. The burden of his past and what his name brought to him. He felt it all too strongly. He lay awake at night, worrying over his father and what he might do. He was worried that now that his grandfather had verbalized his wish for them to reclaim Erebor, his father would go through with it. Of course, he, too, wanted nothing more than to see the day when they would reclaim their homeland, but he knew that they did not stand a chance against the dragon. And yet, deep down, Thorin knew that if the day came that his father and brother were gone and this burden fell upon him, he knew he would have no choice. He knew he could not forsake his family. He could not forsake his people. 

A part of him, perhaps the more cautious one, opposed the matter completely. His people and his family came first, and such a quest would surely bring death and pain upon them all, and after all that they had endured, what they _still_ endured, he did not think it would be fair to bring more despair unto them. On the other hand, there was the possibility — although it was the faintest and most foolish possibility — that they might succeed. And then the sufferings they would meet along the way would be nothing compared to what they would gain: their rightful place in Erebor. Their people would prosper, thrive, and gain back their honour. They would be safe again. 

Thorin found himself gazing at Dania from aside as these thoughts rushed through his mind. _She_ would be safe. He felt a pang in his heart because he knew that right now she was not. Her eyes moved across the room until they landed on him. Thorin saw her cheeks redden as she caught him looking at her and he felt another pang in his heart. 

She moved to stand directly next to him. "You are awfully quiet this evening," she said, not able to restrain herself from seeking his presence even in the light of Ester's revelation. 

"I am sorry," he said, "it was not my intention to grieve you with my foul mood."

She frowned at him, feeling sorry that he would think he could ever be a burden to her. "You did no such thing," she spoke in a low voice. 

Thorin said nothing, not wishing to say anything that might actually cause her to lose whatever spirits she had regained since her father had returned safely. But then she spoke again, and he felt he could not stop himself from seeking comfort in her — even though he knew it was unwise. 

"Tell me what is troubling you," she said, concern overflowing her every word. 

Thorin looked down at her, his heart overflowing with affection as he sensed her deep worry over him. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by someone grabbing his shoulder and shouting in excitement. 

"Thorin, there ya are!" 

Thorin turned his head in the direction of the newcomer and chuckled as he recognized the Dwarf next to him. 

"Dwalin," Thorin said, "Mahal, how much have you had to drink?" he questioned as he caught the alcohol reeking from him. 

Dania covered her mouth with her hand to hide her laugh, causing Thorin to smile slightly to himself. 

"No more than is'na disapproved of," the Dwarf said with a laugh. 

"This is Dania," Thorin said, ignoring his friend's misdemeanour. "Dania, this is Dwalin, son of Fundin."

"How do you do, lass?" he said and gave a slight bow of his head. 

"How do you do?" Dania said with a smile. 

"Thorin, your father wants to see yer," Dwalin said. 

Thorin nodded and turned to gaze at her for a moment before leaving. Dania frowned as the deep scowl had returned on Thorin's face, making her feel hopeless of ever alleviating some of his worries. She was about to leave as well when Dwalin began to speak. 

"I'm no actually drunk, you know?" he said, making her raise a doubtful brow. "I just do that to irritate him."

Dania shook her head and stayed silent for a moment before speaking. "If you really want to irk him, you have to tell him how stubborn he's being."

Dwalin chuckled. "Aye, that too."

Their attention was then caught by some commotion on the other side of the room. Dania heard the King shouting words she could not understand. Beside her, Dwalin took a cautious step toward the others. Dania hesitantly followed until her eyes landed on a Dwarf that seemed to have just come in. He still wore his cloak, which was ripped in numerous places. His face was marked with dirt and blood, making Dania frown in understanding. He was a messenger, and judging by everyone's demeanour, he had not come bearing good news. Her gaze caught Thorin, who had been watching her intently. He was looking at her, his brows furrowed, deep affliction overshadowing his features. Then her eyes went from the king to him, and she noticed a sign of defeat, but also of determination, in Thorin's eyes, and she understood. He was leaving. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nár's tale is taken from Durin's Folk in Appendix A of The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King.  
> Again, as some of you may have noticed, the events of the War of the Dwarves and Orcs follow more closely the book rather than the film, which has it as being only one battle, the Battle of Azanulbizar. In the books, the war spans six years until it culminates in the Battle of Azanulbizar. 
> 
> Khuzdul translation:  
> Mizimith - Jewel that is young


	9. In My Heart, You're Always Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin struggles with his feelings as he must say goodbye to Dania before leaving for Moria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Only in the agony of parting do we look into the depths of love." — George Eliot

"Stay."

Barely above a whisper, the word escaped her lips before she could stop herself. Her mind was racing, oscillating between what she yearned to say and what she knew to be wise. A heaviness settled in her heart as it trembled within its cage. 

His eyes softened as he felt her pain, and for a moment, his heart reached out to her, wrapping itself around hers. But Thorin knew that she was only concerned as a friend, and perhaps even more so as his sister's friend. The ache in his chest became heavier at the thought. How could he have let such a thing happen? As he stared at her and took in her bright brown eyes, and the glow of her skin, he knew. _Mahal_ , he knew. He knew by the way her chestnut hair cascaded down her back, softer than the finest silk — how he wished he could run his fingers through them, smell them, revel in the feel of them against his skin! He knew by the way she would press her lips together when she was irritated, or when she tried to hide feelings of unease, like now. But most of all, he treasured the way the light flickered in her eyes to reveal the deepest and most secret emotions she tried to hide from him, from which he could see at the moment that she was afraid. That observation broke his heart all over again. 

"Dania," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. 

Her eyes widened at the sound, and suddenly remembering her place, she shook her head. 

"I am sorry," she said, her voice still trembling lightly, "it is not my place to speak of such things."

"Dania," he spoke again, this time with more authority. 

"Yes?"

"You do not have to be afraid," he said. 

She gulped, trying to get rid of the sickening feeling that grasped at her throat. "I am not afraid."

"Dania — "

"I'm not afraid!" She exclaimed, trying to gain back control over her speech. "I am not afraid of Orcs and — and — " she shook her head once more and took a deep breath. "I just wish you did not have to go."

He paused, the urge to hold her in his arms coming back with a fierce urgency, but he forced himself to stay focused. 

"You know why I have to go, don't you?" 

His question took her by surprise, but he did not wait for an answer. 

"I have to keep you safe," he said, making her eyes widen, not believing he could have meant what she thought. "I have to keep you all safe," he added. 

Upon seeing the shock on her face, he feared he had said too much. But with her begging him to stay, he had thought — he mentally cursed himself for ever thinking it. He knew it could not be. 

Dania could hardly contain the emotions that were threatening to come out. She did not want him to go. She did not want him to tell her why he must go because she wanted him to stay. But she could not tell him why, for if she did, she would surely lose him forever. 

"Could you not protect them better if you stayed here?" Dania asked. 

Thorin frowned. Why had she removed herself from her statement? Did she think that he had no wish to keep her safe? For a moment, he wanted nothing more than to tell her that all he wanted was to keep her safe. That he _would_ keep her safe. He wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms to show her. But the realization — which was thrust to him by her previous reaction — that such actions may not be welcome, pierced a hole through him. A hole that could only be filled by her, and thus destined to be forever empty. 

"I must fight so that my grandfather's honour may be restored — so that our honour may be restored! I will not stand back while Orcs desecrate our sacred halls and make us insult by — by defiling my grandfather!"

Dania flinched at his sudden outburst, her heart pounding in her chest as she worried that perhaps she had crossed a line in questioning him. But she ignored this thought, refusing to let him win so easily.

"What about your safety!? Do you care so little about your family that you would risk getting killed?" she shouted. Despite her best efforts, she was unable to control her emotions.

"It is because I care for them that I must do this — "

"No, Thorin, you do not have to do this!" she spoke in a heated voice. "Not for them — not for anyone! You do not have to prove anything to anyone. You are most honourable to us, your people, surely that is what counts?"

He shook his head, making her sigh in frustration. How could he not see? How could he not understand how much he meant to all of them? How could he not see how much he meant to _her_? 

"I am unworthy of whatever honour you bestow upon me while they still live," he said. 

There was a moment of silence as they gazed at each other, neither understanding why the other did not understand. Dania shook her head in disbelief once more, hurt by the fact that he thought so little of himself.

"You're a fool," she said, the words slipping out of her mouth before she could stop them. 

Thorin's eyes flashed with anger, but Dania refused to cower away, even if she already regretted her bluntness. 

"You cannot see how much you mean to your people! You have done so much for them — you still do so much! I see every day how exhausted you are because of all that you do for them! Surely, you cannot actually believe that you are unworthy — "

"I have told you already," he said, his chest rising rapidly as he struggled to retain control over his emotions, "I cannot stand back while the Orcs live. It is my duty to protect our honour. I would be forever unworthy of being your king if I did not do everything in my power to preserve that honour. And if I can better protect my people by doing so, then I really have no choice."

As much as she was infuriated by him right now, Dania could not help but let her heart swell with admiration for him. He was so strong, so brave, so honourable, that she felt minuscule in his presence. For a moment, she even forgot about her sadness about the impossibility of her affections for him. She was too focused on finally seeing him for what he was born to be: the greatest leader to be born since Durin himself. She could barely comprehend how a single person could lose so much yet still have so much strength left in him. How he could have lost so much already and yet be willing to sacrifice even more so that others would be safe. 

Thorin frowned as he noted the change in her eyes. For some reason, her silence plagued him more than her anger, for at least when she shouted at him, he knew the truth of her feelings — or so he believed. She took a deep breath and took a step back, widening the hole in his heart. 

"I understand why you have to do this," she said with unsettling calmness, "but that does not mean I am happy with you leaving."

He gave her a small smile, but his pain overshadowed it. "I am not happy about it either, Dany," he said, and it was her turn to let a small smile appear on her lips. "But we are Durin's Folk, and we do not flee from a fight. It must be borne."

Dania did not talk back. She had come to the realization that nothing she could say would change his mind. She admired his determination, but she could not deny that the recognition that he would inevitably leave broke her heart. And it was because of that realization that she now had to bite the inside of her cheeks to stop a sob from escaping her lips. 

Thorin sensed that, although she had voiced understanding, she was most unhappy.

"I will return," he said, "I promise you."

The stillness that had clouded her eyes dissipated at once as she stared at him in disbelief, feeling anger stirring up in her once more. 

"You should not make promises you cannot be certain to keep," she said.

The truth of her words made her tremble. She did not want to linger on such thoughts, and yet that was all she could do. She could not even bear to look at him anymore, fearing that he may see just how much she was afraid.

"Look at me," Thorin said. It was a command, but he spoke in such a soft and reassuring voice that Dania was not able to resist him. Thorin felt a stab in his heart as he saw her looking at him with such raw fear, hope, and tenderness all mingled into one beautiful expression of sadness in her eyes. "I _promise_ you I will return."

The earnestness with which he spoke made Dania understand that he was not taking such a promise lightly. He was making a vow that he would return. And although Dania knew that he would face unimaginable dangers, she held on to that promise as if her life depended on it. As far as she was concerned, it did depend on it, for she could not bear to lose him. 

"I will hold you to that," she said after a moment. 

Thorin chuckled, glad that he had been able to ease her worries, if only for a moment. But as soon as they parted, and Dania knew that he could no longer see her, she shed away the smile she had conjured to please him, and let her eyes filled with burning tears.

***

Heaviness hung in the air the following morning. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, but Dania was somewhere where she could not feel its heat. She had not wept when she had kissed her father goodbye, but she had refused to remove herself from his embrace. 

" _Mizimith_ , do not worry about me," Mimir spoke softly, his own fears clogging his throat. "You will be safe, that is all that matters."

Dania frowned as she looked into his eyes. "It is not all that matters to _me_."

But in the end, she had been forced to let go. All these years, she had hated to see him leave, but he had come back every time. Now, however, she could not help but feel an unsettling sense of foreboding. When these fears rose in her, she recalled what Thorin had told her the night before, but it was no use. She would just have to pray to Mahal day and night for their safe return. 

Dania could see in others' faces that she was not the only one that had dreaded this day. Wives embraced their husbands, perhaps for the last time, as mothers wept in their sons' arms while children clung to them, oblivious to their affliction. Her heart tightened in her chest as she watched families be separated, and she hoped with all her heart that their separation would not last forever. This was, of course, her main reason for not being able to watch her father leave. He was the only family she had; she could not lose him.

Dania could not really remember her mother; after all, she had been so young when Erebor had been lost. She could only remember small glimpses, nothing concrete. Nothing that could recall to her the person her mother had been. She was but a memory. Dania could see her smile and even hear her laugh at times, but she could not bring herself to know who she had been, and that was what pained her the most. She had lost her mother before she had been able to know her, and they had never had a proper farewell. Now she had had a chance to have a proper farewell with her father, but she had not been able to bring herself to say goodbye, for she did not want to believe this was goodbye. 

Dania felt a hand on her arm and jumped, only to see Frey standing in front of her, a sad smile on his face. 

"You will look after her for me?" he said in a low voice. 

Dania frowned, only then noticing the redness of his eyes, which were settled on something behind her. She turned around, only to see Dís looking back at him as tears streamed down her face. 

Dania faced him again and placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Of course."

He gave her a grateful smile. "And will you tell her that — that I love her?"

Dania's heart melted upon seeing the pureness in his eyes as he spoke the word. She gave him a small smile, her own eyes watering. "You will tell her yourself."

She was surprised when he leaned in to embrace her, but was deeply touched. She felt his tears on her shoulder as she struggled to hold in her own. 

"Be safe," she spoke softly, "and do not do anything foolish. I will kill you if you break her heart," she said teasingly, but he knew what she was asking of him. 

He chuckled. As soon as he let go of her, Dís came running toward him and jumped into his arms. Dania gave Frey a sad smile as he stroked Dís' hair, murmuring soothing words into her ears. Dania suddenly looked away, feeling as though she had been intruding upon a very private moment. The urgency with which they held each other had reminded Dania of the one she dreaded to see leaving the most. The one she wished would hold her in the same way, and whisper in her ear with the same care. 

Her eyes met Thorin's, who had also been eyeing the couple, he, too, envious of their intimacy. Dania took a step toward him, but Frerin rushed to stand before her, blocking Thorin from her view. 

"Dania!" Frerin said, "I have been looking for you!" 

Dania forced herself to smile at him. "I can't believe you are going as well," she said.

"I am as good a fighter as Thorin!" Frerin defended himself, oblivious to Dania's inner turmoil. 

"That does not mean you should have to go to war," she said, "you are so young!"

"I am almost as old as you!" Frerin interjected. 

_Precisely,_ Dania thought to herself. Although she wished she had the strength to stand by them on the battlefield, she could not imagine herself in that situation, and so could hardly believe that Frerin was going. She looked around them, her eyes landing on others as young as he, tearing themselves away from their families. 

"I will not flee from this fight," Frerin said, determination settling on his features. 

Dania could not help the small smile that appeared on her lips. "You sound like Thorin."

The sound of his name on her lips made her heart tighten in her chest. Frerin frowned, not understanding Dania's sudden change of mood. 

"You will look after him, won't you?" she asked. 

As he saw the fear creeping behind her usually bright eyes, Frerin could not help but remember the looks he had seen pass between her and his brother, and the growing complicity he had noticed between them over the last few years. 

"You underestimate his skill in battle," Frerin said in an attempt to ease her, but she merely shook her head. 

" _Please_ , Frerin," she whispered. 

Her eyes filled with tears and, fearing that his speech was the cause of it, he moved in and hugged her tightly. She wrapped her arms around him, cherishing this last moment with him. 

"I will look after him," he said softly in her ear. "Though, I do wish you were as worried about me as him."

Despite the state she was in, Dania chuckled. "You idiot," she said as she pulled away, finding that Frerin's usual playful grin had returned. "Of course, I'm worried about you."

That was when she noticed Thorin standing not too far behind his brother. The two of them stared at each other in silence, both having dreaded this moment and not knowing how to say what they yearned to let the other know. 

"I suppose I'll leave you two, now . . ." Frerin said, understanding that the pair had entirely forgotten him. "Goodbye, Dania."

Dania was too focused on Thorin to protest. Once Frerin was gone, each of them took a step forward. They stood so close that if Thorin had extended his arm, he would have been able to tuck behind her ear the strand of hair that now danced across her face. 

"I am sorry I did not come sooner," he said. "My mother could not bring herself to let me go."

Dania gave him a small smile, understanding all too well what his mother had felt, but the truth was that Thorin had waited until the very last minute to part with Dania, for he could not stand the thought of being so far from her for so long. 

Dania had still not spoken. 

"Are you angry with me?"

She frowned; Thorin sounded actually worried about that prospect. She merely shook her head, not trusting her voice. 

"Then what is it?" he asked, his voice becoming softer than she had ever believed it could. Dania trembled at the thought the care in his voice and eyes was all for her. 

"I — "

"Yes?"

She shook her head once more, chasing away the urge to open herself to him. "I just wish you did not have to go."

She had already told him so, only yesterday. What Thorin yearned to know, however, was the reason behind such thoughts. 

"Why?" he asked before he could stop himself. 

At last, Dania looked up to him, and Thorin's heart swelled as she looked into his eyes. The fact that all of her attention was on him made him nervous and happy all at once. He wished he could tell her how he truly felt, but even if he could have brought himself to do so, he would not have known how to express his feelings, especially at a time like this. Instead, he remained silent, his eyes wandering to her beautiful chestnut locks, where he wished he could have placed the bead that now hung at the end of his own braid. 

She opened her mouth to speak, causing him to lean in closer, but the sound of a horn echoed through the street. Dania took a step back, and the hole in Thorin's chest widened further still. 

Dania had to close her eyes for a moment to stop herself from saying things she would later regret. She could not tell him how she felt. It was bad enough that she had to part from him for Mahal knew how many weeks or months, but she would not risk losing him forever. 

"I have something for you," he said. 

She opened her eyes and frowned. He grabbed something that had been hanging on his belt and handed it to her, his fingers brushing against hers in the process, making his hand tingle with a strange but not unpleasant sensation. Dania felt it too, and she let her hand linger in his, her fingers brushing against his knuckles. 

The horn sounded again. 

"What is this?" she asked, taking in the scabbard that lay in her palms. She wrapped her right hand around the hilt of what seemed to be a knife of some sort. Her eyes widened, and she gasped quietly as she unsheathed the weapon, her eyes landing on an intricately engraved dagger. 

"I made it for you," Thorin said in a bashful voice. 

Dania looked up to him, deeply touched, but also intrigued by his gesture. 

"Thorin, it's beautiful, I — "

"Thorin!" A voice sounded from behind it. 

Thorin took another step toward Dania, now standing so close to her that their bodies almost touched. "Keep them safe, please."

Overwhelmed by the nearness of his body, she merely nodded. 

"I promise you, I will return," he spoke again as he began to draw himself away from her. 

" _Mukhuh Mahal bakhuz murukhzu_ , Thorin," Dania said in a trembling voice. 

Thorin stopped in his track, his gaze lingering on her face before he gave a slight bow before turning away, not wanting her to see the despair that he could not seem to hide from his face. Behind him, Dania held the dagger close to her heart and let a tear roll down her cheek.

Standing not too far from her, Dís had watched their whole exchange. She had frowned as she saw Thorin handing Dania what seemed to be a weapon, but upon seeing distress on Dania's face, the princess rushed toward her. 

"Dania — ?" 

Dania turned to face Dís, not caring to hide the tears that now rolled down her cheeks. Dís embraced her friend tightly, her own tears returning. Dania turned her gaze back to where Thorin had been, but she could no longer see him. She trembled. 

As she pulled away, Dania noticed that Dís was staring at her strangely, but she could not bring herself to question her, for her throat was clogged with suppressed emotions. She felt Dís's hands reach for the dagger and turned to face her. 

"Thorin made it," she said, the name causing her heart to clench in her chest. 

Dís' eyes widened suddenly, making Dania frown. 

"Why did you not tell me?" 

Dania furrowed her brows as she stared at her friend. From the look on Dís' face, Dania felt as though it should have been obvious what she was talking about, but it was not. 

"Tell you what?" Dania asked in exasperation when her friend did not elaborate. 

Dís rolled her eyes. "That there was something between you, of course?"

Dania felt herself blush, but her confusion was greater than her embarrassment at having her feelings so easily unearthed by her friend. 

"What?"

In response, Dís only handed the dagger back to Dania. Dania gave her a puzzled look before grabbing it, her fingers wrapping around the hilt possessively. She looked down at her hands, only then noticing the engravings on the blade that her eyes had missed in her perturbation earlier. Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt her heart regain its vigour as a warmth spread through her body. Her fingers slowly brushed against the finely engraved Khuzdul runes and she had a vivid memory of Thorin's broad back, sheened with sweat, as he swung his hammer, over and over in strokes like clockwork. She could imagine him sitting in the forge, a deep furrow of concentration on his forehead as he masterfully carved the metal. She read, and reread the word over and over again, not truly believing, and yet, she held the physical proof of his affections, rendered by his enduring labour. The word on the blade was _amrâlimê_. 

At once, Dania darted in the direction she had seen him leave. She heard Dí calling her name, but she did not stop. All she cared about was the feeling in her heart; the feeling she had tried so long to suppress and which she know knew he returned. But when she finally reached the outskirts of the village and climbed all the way up the small hill overlooking the valley before the Misty Mountains, she could see the army already far beyond her reach. He was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you guys think of this chapter? Please tell me in the comments, along with your general response to the story so far! I am very excited for the next chapter, which will cover the Battle of Azanulbizar! It will be posted shortly. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading, and don't forget to leave Kudos!
> 
> Khuzdul translation:
> 
> Mukhuh Mahal bakhuz murukhzu: May Mahal's hammer shield you  
> amrâlimê: My love


	10. The Dimrill Dale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Battle of Azanulbizar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It is useless to meet revenge with revenge; it will heal nothing." — J.R.R. Tolkien

The Dwarves had been marching solemnly and relentlessly toward Moria for days now. A day after they had left Dunland, Firebeard and Broadbeam troops had joined them. They had been most eager to fight alongside Thráin and his army, for in the Second Age, they had been amongst those who had helped increase the wealth and power of Khazad-dûm alongside Durin's Folk. Then the Ironfists, Stiffbeards, Blacklocks and Stonefoots joined them as they camped between the Limlight and the Anduin, though in lesser numbers than the clans from the west. 

Days and nights faded into one as the lowering skies fell to even gloomier and colder nights, making time seem like one endless stream of darkness with neither end nor beginning. The dense forests of Dunland hade slowly become sparser. The land became almost barren, riddled with vast stretches of bare ground and rock and bearing rare patches of low vegetation. Wild animals could be heard if one paid close attention, but they saw none. The Misty Mountains loomed over the camp, causing it to ferment with agitation. Thorin knew they were quickly approaching the Dimrill Dale. 

The soldiers' uneasiness was justified, for there was still no sign of Náin and the Dwarves of the Ironhills. Their absence worried Thorin, though perhaps not as much as it should have. Frerin and Dwalin had begun to worry about him. Apart from the occasional command or brief input during meetings between clan chiefs, Thorin spoke not a word. He was lost in his thoughts, and always the same deep frown marked his features. 

Thorin knew he was not acting as he should have been at times like these; he knew he was not acting as a leader should, but he could not help it. What he thought about, day and night, wet or dry, hungry or fed, was Dania, the one he was weak with, and weaker without. Her features haunted him during the day and caressed his sleepless nights. He could not tear his mind away from the memory of her presence. He could picture her perfectly in his mind. The curls of her hair, the slenderness of her fingers, the swell of her hips, the radiance of her smile, brighter than the stars themselves — if he closed his eyes, he could even recall her smell. Sweet, like the center of the ripest flower, and yet not at all like a flower, for hers was a scent that was uniquely hers, but lo! how he wished flowers smelt of her so that he may pick one and feel as though he was inhaling the very essence of her skin. 

He hated himself for not having dared to admit his feelings. Instead, he had given her the dagger, and he had hoped that she would not see the engravings before he was gone, for he could not have borne her rejection. However much he had tried to push the thoughts away, he knew what he would face on that battlefield, knew that ifNáin's men did not arrive, there would be no way out for him. And yet, for all his worries about the battle and Dania's feelings toward him, he wished he could see her again, even if she was to reject him, at least he would have the privilege to look upon her again. 

Someone cleared their throat, pulling him out of his thoughts. He saw that Frerin had sat down beside him on the log he had been sitting on, a bowl of warm stew in his hands. Thorin's bowl sat cold and untouched on the ground. 

"Do you mind if I join you?" the younger prince said. 

Thorin merely nodded in response, looking away from his brother and up toward the mountains, toward his destiny — whatever that may be. Thorin chuckled to himself at the thought, but a terrible weight tugged at his heart. 

"I do not know what has been worrying you so," Frerin began, "but I want you to know that I am here for you, brother."

Thorin turned to face him. He could not bring himself to open up to him, having locked the truth of his feelings deep down inside him, but his brother's concern touched him. "Thank you."

Frerin gave him a small smile and turned to gaze upon the mountains himself. They sat in silence for a while, until Frerin sighed loudly, causing Thorin to stare at him, eyebrows raised in questioning. 

"Will you really not say anything?" 

Thorin sighed as he ran his hands over his face. "Frerin, please — "

"I promised her I would watch over you, but you are making it impossible!" Frerin exclaimed. 

Thorin frowned. "You promised to watch over me?" he said incredulously. "To _whom_?" 

"Dania, of course," the younger prince said in a tone fitter for discussing the weather. 

Thorin's heart began to pound against his ribcage. What reasons could she have had to ask such a thing of Frerin?

"Thorin — ?"

He let go of a breath he did not know he had been holding. "Why — Did she tell you why?"

To Thorin's surprise, Frerin chuckled. "Well, no, but it is obvious."

"It is?"

Frerin gave his brother an incredulous look. "Do not tell me you do not _know_."

"Know what!?" Thorin clamoured. "Mahal, what are you talking about?"

"She cares deeply for you, of course," Frerin said with a casualness that made Thorin's skin prickle.

At first, Thorin stared at him in disbelief, his heart managing to beat even faster than it already was, but then he tried to compose himself and shook his head. 

"So do I," Thorin said. "We are good friends — "

"Mahal, you are not really so thick as to believe that is the extent of her feelings, are you?" Frerin said with a disbelieving laugh. "She loves you!"

Every moment with her came flashing back to Thorin in one wave threatening to sweep him off his feet. He had always hoped — always longed for her to return his affections. Whenever they would be alone, his mind would be racing, making up multitudinous scenarios in which he professed his undying love for her, and in which she would pledge herself to him in return. Whenever she would look at him —all her attention focused on him — he would look deep into her eyes, wishing he could swim in the depths of her irises to discover what lay beneath them — all the secrets they held. He had often wondered what she thought when she looked at him, and that beautiful smile tugged at her lips. He had always imagined she could never look at him the way he looked at her, long for him the way he longed for her. Not only this, but he had forced himself not to let his longing show, knowing full well the impossibility of his love for her. 

But then, Frerin had claimed to know the extent of her affections in such a matter-of-factly tone that Thorin no longer knew what to think. Could she really return his affections? Thorin was not sure if he could take his brother's word for it, but he certainly wished he could. Then he wondered if in his disposition and his concern for her own had prevented him from seeing beyond his own dubiety. 

"Thorin," Frerin spoke hesitantly, "I know Dania — and I see how she looks at you. Trust me."

Thorin looked to him, hope, longing, and sadness all mingled into his eyes. "Do you truly believe she — "

He could not even bring himself to say the word, fearing that he would no longer be able to suppress his feelings if he uttered the word he had longed hoped they could avow to one another, but which he had long lost any hope of ever saying out loud outside of his dreams. 

"I do," Frerin said. "I may not know a lot about women — or anything at all, really — " he chuckled, and Thorin let a smile slip on his face, "but I know I did not mistake the longing in her eyes when I last saw her."

Thorin said nothing, not trusting his voice as he felt himself drowning in his affliction and delight as they battled one another. 

"Do _you_ love her?" Frerin asked in a shy murmur. 

"How could I not?" he said hoarsely. 

Frerin nodded and walked away, leaving his brother to come to terms with his thoughts. 

***

It was still dark when Thorin rose the following morning. No sun shined through the clouds, and the grey sky cast shadows over the dismantled camp, casting a veil of mist about the air. There was still no sign of Náin.

The Dwarves had continued their advance toward Moria, soon finding themselves trudging across large rocks and boulders. Thorin could see strands of light piercing through the clouds far to the East, but the dale was covered in darkness. A small bed of snow covered the rocks — though they had seen no snowfall during the night. 

The army had stopped for a short break. Thráin took the opportunity to call the other clan leaders and make last-minute adjustments to their strategy. They were in the midst of a heated argument — about what Thorin knew not, for he had not been listening. 

"... and Fundin will lead a charge out of the woods near the Mirroemere lake. Are we all agreed?" Thráin asked though he was not looking for anything other than agreement. 

The other chiefs nodded in agreement. A young boy then came running toward their table, an air of distress etched on his face as his chest heaved rapidly. 

Yngvi, the Firebeard leader, stood as he noticed the newcomer. "What news, Airi? Any sight of Náin?" 

Airi shook his head vigorously. "No, M'Lord. But — "

"This is madness," Yngvi's brother Orvar growled. "Without Náin's men, we stand no chance against the orcs!"

The other chiefs grumbled in agreement, making Thorin stir uneasily in his seat. 

Thráin banged his fist against the table before raising a ringed finger toward Orvar. "You gave me your _word_ that you would stand by our side — "

"And we intend to keep it," Yngvi interrupted. 

The others nodded in agreement, though with evident lack of enthusiasm. 

"M'Lord?" Airi hesitantly butted in. "There is — something else."

The Dwarves around the table all turned to face him, unsettled by the tremble in his voice. 

"What is it, boy?" Yngvi asked, seemingly uninterested by the messenger. 

"Orcs, M'Lord," he said, "thousands of them, M'Lord."

"How many, boy?" he asked. When the boy stayed silent, he raised his voice. "How many thousands? Speak!"

Airi staggered on his feet. "I can't be sure, M'Lord," he said, eyes wide. "At least ten thousand, M'Lord."

Thorin was pulled out of his thoughts as he heard the messenger speak. Ten thousand?! This was madness indeed, he thought. His eyes landed on Frerin, and he felt a cold wind brush over him. Frerin was much too young — much too young to die brutally on a battlefield. He could not let this happen. 

"Father — " 

Thráin raised his hand to silence his firstborn, making him clench his fists angrily. 

"My Lords," Thráin spoke as he stood, his armour bright and shiny against the dark sky. "We cannot stand back while Orcs desecrate our sacred halls! It cannot be borne!"

There was a murmur of agreement amongst the lords.

"We cannot stand back while the white Orc that murdered my father, King Thrór, still lives! Such deeds cannot go unpunished." 

"... Aye!..."

"... it cannot be borne!..."

"... we must fight back!..."

"... _Du-bekâr_!.."

Despite his fears, Thorin felt courage rise in him at the sight of the men ready to follow his father into the deep of Khazad-dûm, but most of all, he was filled with reverence for each of the Dwarves at their side. Then a horn was sounded and echoed by others throughout the camp. It was time. 

The Dwarves nodded to one another before leaving to lead their troops to war. Instead of walking next to his father, Thorin reached for Frerin. The young prince raised his eyebrows in questioning as he noted the deep frown that overshadowed his brother's face. 

"Frerin, do not leave my sight during this battle," Thorin commanded. 

"I would not dream of it," Frerin said with a smile that spoke more than words ever could about his inexperience. "I belong with you, brother."

Thorin swallowed thickly and nodded. They made their way to their father, other warriors passing them in reporting to their assigned positions. Thorin nodded in encouragement at them as they reached the head of the column. His father was staring at the rows of warriors before him, his chin raised in solemnity. There was no fear on his face. He bore the weight of the crown much better than he ever could, Thorin thought to himself. 

The horns sounded again, and the Dwarves began to march toward the north where the gate lay. Thorin let out a deep sigh before putting on his helmet, a deep sense of foreboding oozing through every inch of his body like liquid fire. In his right hand, he held his sword and in his left, his shield. Beside him stood Frerin and Frey, who had also been unusually quiet in the past days. A few paces away, Dwalin and Balin stood side by side. 

The eastern gates of Moria came into view as they marched. The rocky ground rose in height from there and on the slopes above, and they found thousands of Orcs waiting for them. Airi had a good eye, but there were definitely more than ten thousand Orcs — it was twice that number. They seemed to be but an endless, writhing mass of black spilling out of the open gates like a veil of death. 

An orc horn sounded in the distance and was echoed by many. The Dwarves all cried as one. Never had so much hatred and anger burned in the hearts of so many, and never before had they burned so strongly inside of Thorin. He thought of his grandfather and the terrible end he had suffered here. They would pay for this. 

The Orcs responded with their guttural cries as the bitter wind whipped through the valley, biting at Thorin's skin. The face of one whom he loved dearly floated in his mind. He had to survive. His father's voice reached his ears, but he could not make out the words. He had to survive — if only to see her again. He was uncertain about a great many things, but his love for her burned with certainty inside him. He would tell her — and he would hold her in his arms and whisper her name until it lost all meaning. 

Thorin took a deep breath to settle himself. He planted his feet firmly on the ground, taking in his surroundings as he gripped the hilt of his sword tightly. He felt a hand on his shoulder and saw Frerin looking up to him. 

"Good luck, brother," he said. 

Thorin did not have a chance to reply; Thráin's voice echoed throughout the valley, drowning out all else before it was followed by the cries of their kin. 

" _Baruk Khazâd_! _Khazâd ai-mênu_!" 

Thorin heard the battle cry leave his mouth as his feet propelled him forward. The call became unintelligible as it was repeated by thousands rushing toward their enemy. The orcs began their advance, a great misshapen mass of twisted spears and crooked swords pointed toward the Dwarves. As the lines drew nearer, large groups of Dwarves rushed before the royal family, hitting the Orcs first in a clash of ringing metal. 

Before he knew it, Thorin found himself in the midst of a battlefield. Chaos reigned. Cries and sobs echoed all around him, distorted by the sound of threatening metal. The air became suffused with the smell of mangled flesh. He stabbed, shoved, and shattered the Orcs around him in an almost haphazard manner, but to anyone who would have watched him, he was glorious. Orcs seemed to cower away at the mere sight of him, and they were crushed beneath the force of his strikes, as though Mahal himself had infused his blade with the power of the Valar, the fire of the line of Durin burning within him as intensely as it did in warriors of old. 

In one fluid motion, Thorin cut down three Orcs, but no matter how many fell at his feet, there always seemed to appear more, as though they were multiplying and rising from in between the corpses of the Dwarves. To his left, he saw Dwalin knocking down an Orc by banging his forehead against it. A little further stood Balin, who, although less aggressive than his brother, was in no way less efficient in his strikes. Thorin felt his blood go cold when he could no longer see Frerin beside him. His strokes became less precise as fear took hold of him, extinguishing the fire within him, but he was soon relieved to see him alive, already almost a yard away, his face covered in blood — as was his. The prince's curses, although loud enough to make his throat burn, were drowned out by death creeping all around him. He began to make his way toward Frerin, never tearing his eyes away from him as he killed all in his path, the fire reborn inside him. When Thorin found himself within arm's reach, his eyes caught a white mass looming over the battlefield.

"Azog."

The name escaped Thorin's lips in a furious whisper. There stood the barbarian who had beheaded his grandfather — who had defiled his honour and insulted him most profoundly. Thorin's knuckles turned white as he held his sword strongly enough to crush it. The pale Orc's eyes fell on the princes, and Thorin shivered at the wildness that shone in his eyes as though he revelled in the smell and sound of death. For a moment that seemed frozen in time, he saw Frerin take a step toward the beast, but before either of them could jump to action, another cry reverberated across the dale. 

"Trolls!" 

The princes whirled around to see a dozen of the foul creatures approaching fast. Orcs and Dwarves were sent flying in all directions as they swung their hammers to and fro. The princes shared a quick look and nodded. As though controlled by one mind, they both sped toward the Troll that advanced toward them and sliced the creature's legs, their blades ringing as one. Flames consumed the trees to the south with the same intensity as the fire coursing through the princes' blood. The heirs of Durin moved to stand back to back; their swords held high as a mass of Orcs circled them. The fell beings closed in on them, their teeth as sharp and jagged as the weapons they carried. Thorin felt his muscles straining already, but the Orcs seemed to continue coming at him in growing numbers. The sound of his cry made the Orcs recoil slightly — and that was the last thing they ever did. 

Death seeped through all around them, making Thorin's head spin. Even the snow-covered ground was now soaked in blood. Thorin wished the Orcs' blood was beneath his feet, but his eyes moved across the mutilated bodies of his kin, and he felt bile rise in his throat. 

It was dark still, but somehow in that instant, a shadow appeared above Thorin. The prince rose slowly, and his eyes landed on the pale Orc marching toward him amidst the smoke and flames. But before he could strike, a shout resonated from behind Thorin. Turning around, he saw Frerin charging toward Azog. Thorin called his name, his blood frozen in his veins, but it was no use. The young prince raised his sword to strike but was immediately thrown back by the Orc's flail — and killed on the spot. Thorin felt his insides shatter, as though he had been the one to suffer the blow. His broken cry echoed through the battlefield, grief so strong it could have brought down the mountains from Dunland to the very heart of Angmar. He ran toward Frerin, life leaving him with every step he took. 

A pool of blood already surrounded the young prince, though not as wide as the one that was oozing out of Thorin's heart. His body ached as his sobs ravaged his throbbing muscles. It was his fault, he thought, as tears streamed down his blood-stained cheeks. He had urged Frerin to stay by his side, and because of that had left Thorin behind forever. 

The shadow loomed above Thorin once more, and all he could think of was protecting his brother — even in death. He threw himself between Frerin and his murderer and had no time but to raise his shield to cover them both. Azog's flail struck the metal with such force that Thorin felt the muscles of his arm contract and quaver, making him lose his hold on his shield so that it soared through the air and landed far out of reach. He grunted as he struggled to raise his sword, but the Orc moved faster and knocked the weapon out of his hand with such force that he himself was thrown back. He landed on the rocky ground with a thud, his remaining energy expelled from his body as every single muscle in his body burned, forcing him to take short, ragged breaths. Thorin struggled to move, and just as he managed to turn himself around, he saw the Orc jumping toward him, weapon raised. His eyes widened — he could not reach his sword. He extended his arm, fumbling the ground for anything that might help him block the blow when his hand closed in on what felt like a branch. Azog's weapon came down on him, and in one swift motion, Thorin raised the branch above his head and shielded himself from what would have been the finishing stroke. 

The Orc staggered backwards from the unexpected resistance, but recovered instantly and struck again. Thorin stood as he blocked the second blow with the oak branch, a searing pain stretching from his arm to his heart. He prayed to Mahal — prayed for just enough strength to shield another stroke, but he only felt his strength, leaving him with every breath. His legs gave in, and he felt himself fall backwards. His ears buzzed as the clash of metal echoed inside him. He felt his muscles give up, but he did not waver. Letting out a terrible cry, he collected whatever strength he knew he did not have and raised himself up, swinging his sword sloppily in a desperate attempt to save himself. To his utter amazement — the sword met flesh, and a white limb fell to the ground. Blood oozed out of the Orc's arm as he let out a mangled cry. 

Thorin struggled to lift himself while Azog scrambled backwards until his body gave way. Thorin cried out — both in grief and victory — but could barely take another step. Thorin felt a hand on his shoulder, and words floated to his ears, but all he could make out was the mass of Orcs filling in the gap between him and his foe. Their guttural cries became unbearable as they surrounded their leader, and the next thing the prince saw was the languished, defeated body of the pale Orc being carried back into the mines. He had done it. His purpose was fulfilled. 

Even so, thousands of Orcs still surrounded them, scrambling amongst the dead bodies bestrewed upon the ground, gnawing and biting at all living things. He turned to his side and saw Balin and Dwalin, awaiting his command. They had not missed the Defiler's defeat, and neither had most of the Dwarves surrounding them. Where his father was, Thorin did not know. All he knew was that his people — his friends — needed guidance. He would give them just that. 

"Will you follow me?" He shouted above the noise as they continued to fight. 

They nodded vigorously, and the three of them let out strangled cries, all of their remaining strength boiling up to the surface, ready to take them through one final charge. 

Thorin glanced around the battlefield, more dead than living Dwarves meeting his eyes, but still, his remaining kin fought hard and relentlessly. They would head his call. They would finish this once and for all. 

" _Ai-rusê_!" Thorin looked up toward the gate, and all his grief and hate filled him so that his cry resonated throughout the vale, rallying the Dwarves to him. " _Du-bekâr_!" 

He heard the battle cry echoed by the last of his kin as they turned toward the gate, ready for a final charge. 

" _Du-bekâr_!!" 

The Dwarves rallied and charged toward the gate in a furious mass of clamouring swords and axes. Thorin could barely stand. His legs felt stiff as stone. Blood, both black and red, covered him, and haze seemed to cloud his vision, but even so, he continued to lead his people. Using his oak branch as both shield and club, he cut through the Orcs like a knife in butter. 

At last, the mass of Orcs seemed to be thinning ahead. It did not take him long to see why: the Dwarves of the Iron Hills had arrived. They cut through the Orcs quickly, their force fresh and full. The sight gave Thorin strength, and he staggered forward as he saw Dáin, his cousin, and his father Náin battling the Orcs in the shadow of the Great Gates. 

"Náin!" Thorin shouted as he cut down the Orc that had stood between him and his cousin. 

"Thorin!" he cried, sounding both surprised and relieved to see him. "By Durin, what's happened here!?"

"Where were you?" Thorin asked with poorly masked fury. 

"More Orcs were coming from the North — they had to be dealt with!" 

Thorin grunted — more Orcs. He did not want to imagine what would have been if even more of their vile race had made it to the dale in time. Something suddenly felt odd to Thorin; it was silent. He turned around and saw that battle stilled, with only flashes of movement here and there. A single ray of sun pierced through the clouds, making the mountainside glow like a Balrog's fury. Through the bodies and flames, Thorin discerned a group of Dwarves walking toward him. Two seemed to be carrying a wounded person, and upon recognizing their armour, Thorin let out a strangled gasp. 

"Father!" he cried as he began to run clumsily toward him. 

A few survivors looked up to him as he rushed past them, but all froze as they saw the broken body of their King. 

"Father — "

"He is wounded, my Lord," one of the two Dwarves holding him said. 

"The fire spread through the woods, my Lord Thorin," the other said. 

Thorin recognized Mimir, Dania's father. He was covered in blood and seemed to have been wounded on his right arm, but he was alive. Thorin was immensely grateful for that. 

"We barely managed to escape. We are the only survivors."

Thorin nodded slowly, his heart tightening in his heart. His eyes caught Dwalin and Balin holding each other tightly as they wept. None had survived — Fundin was dead. 

"Thorin — " 

A broken whisper caught his attention, and he crouched down to look upon his father. Alive. That was all that kept the prince from not collapsing. 

"Father," he began, ice returning inside him. "Frerin, he — "

"I know, son," Thráin said in a heavy voice. 

"Thráin!" 

They turned around to see Náin and his son, followed by a few of their warriors, coming toward them. 

Náin helped Thráin stand and gave him a warm embrace before justifying his delay to the Dwarf King. 

"No matter, you are here now — " 

A shadow passed over the King's face as he scanned the battlefield, riddled with the mangled bodies of those who had been sworn to him — of those who had stood by him. 

"This day does not end here," he spoke in a loud voice so that the survivors regrouped around them, looking at their King in confusion. "We must reclaim Moria."

"Thráin — "

"My Lord, we do not have the strength, nor the numbers — "

"We have done all we could!"

Thorin frowned as more and more people joined in, refusing to obey their King. He saw Frey emerge from a group of survivors, nodding in Thorin's direction. The prince felt another surge of relief upon seeing him, for he could not have met his sister's gaze if he had returned without him. As the Dwarves argued, Thorin felt his mind distancing itself from the heated conversation. He could not tear his eyes away from the dead bodies of his kin. The image of Frerin's broken body and his bloodied face flashed in his mind — these people had suffered enough. He had suffered enough. 

"Father," Thorin spoke, and all fell silent at the sound of his voice, "we have suffered heavy losses.There is no more to be done."

"No more to be done!?" Thráin exclaimed in anger. "Our ancestral home still lies in their hands!"

Thorin said nothing, a deep frown marking his features. His father should have understood the grief already borne by them, yet he refused to let go. Thorin had seen this blindness before — in his grandfather. The very thought made him shiver. 

"I even caught a glimpse of Durin's Bane beyond the eastern gate," Dáin said with a shudder. 

"My Lord," spoke one of the survivors, whom Thorin barely recognized as Yngvi due to a deep lash across his face, "if you choose to venture into the mines, you will be doing so without my remaining troops or me. They have already risked too much."

"... aye..."

"...I will not enter Moria..."

"...agreed!..."

There was a pause in which they all looked at Thráin, dreading what he would say next. The air which had been suffused with death and fire was now frozen in place. No one dared move as they waited, standing stiff as though stilled by supernatural forces. Thorin looked to his father with pleading eyes, his loss tugging at his heart. 

Thráin gave a barely discernible nod to everyone's relief. They all continued to look at him, awaiting his command, and Thorin felt relieved that his father had retaken charge. 

"What happened to the pale Orc?" he asked suddenly. "Thorin killed him — I saw it!" Balin spoke, and many validated his words by sharing their accounts of the deed. Thorin stayed silent. All around him, his kin praised his deed, but deep down, he knew he had failed. His brother was gone. As the voices died down, the King gave his son a long look before he gave out his commands.

"We must burn the bodies," he said. 

All felt the weight of his words heavily, for it was not their customs to burn their dead. Dwarves usually built magnificent tombs to honour those who passed on to the other world, reconnecting them to the rock and stone from which they had first emerged, and there they would lie until the Breaking of the World when the Dwarves would rebuild Arda Marred and restore her to her full glory. But such was not the fate that awaited these soldiers, who had given everything to defend the halls of their forefathers. Even in what would be considered a victory, the Dwarves felt like the vanquished. There would be no feast, for their dead were beyond the count of grief. 

And so they began to cut down the trees which had been marred by the fires. Hundreds of trees were cut, for thousands had died, murdered ruthlessly. Thorin was brought to Frerin, who seemed so calm despite the cruel end he had suffered. Dried blood was smeared across his face, hiding the fact that he had been much too young for this war. But this fact was carved onto Thorin's heart, and never would he forget the pain of seeing his brother killed before his eyes. He would always remember the price that had been paid that day. A dagger still hung at Frerin's belt. Thorin's blood-stained hand wrapped itself around the hilt, he would keep it with him forever, as a reminder. 

Thorin joined the others in cutting trees, the blade of his axe piercing through the wood with such raw force that those around him took a step back, and he knew that he was weeping loudly as he did so. The cuts on his hands splintered into open gashes, and his throat burned, but he did not waver — just as Frerin had not. He would continue to strike and strike until all those who had been wronged — over half those who had heeded Thráin's call — were honoured, even if not according to customs. The flames that consumed them filled the dale with a war, crippling light. Most of the survivors began to retreat, unable to bear the stench of burning flesh, but Thorin looked on, wanting to mark his memory with the sight. So much death. 

A sharp pain seared on his side. With all that had happened in so little time, Thorin had not noticed that his pain had extended beyond the gouges in his heart. His tunic was damp, soaked in blood. A festering wound marked him, running from under his breast to his side from a stroke he had failed to notice. He knew it was not as severe as it felt, the blade having most likely only torn his skin lightly on the surface. Not wanting to alarm anyone or force them to halt their progress back in an attempt to heal him, he said nothing. Instead, he tore a wide piece of cloth from his tunic and wrapped it tightly around his abdomen to stop any bleeding that may occur as he travelled back. 

When the Dwarves began their journey back to Dunland, the clouds had faded away, letting the stars look upon the devastation. Even with the burning fires, they shone more brightly than ever, making Thorin wonder if anyone had been watching — if anyone was watching and if so, why they had let such atrocities fall upon his people. Mahal was their maker, their protector, so why did he feel like he had been abandoned, stranded on this field of fire and death?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This was such a challenging chapter to write but I really enjoyed writing it! I hope you guys liked it. If you did, please leave a comment! Thank you all for reading this story. 
> 
> The Broadbeams and Firebeards are Dwarf clans that live in the Blue Mountains (The Peoples of Middle-earth, "Of Dwarves and Men," ed. by Christopher Tolkien).  
> The Ironfists, Stiffbeards, Blacklocks and Stonefoots are other Dwarf clans from the East (The Peoples of Middle-earth, "Of Dwarves and Men," ed. by Christopher Tolkien).  
> Although I do incorporate some details from the Hobbit movies (such as Thorin fighting Azog), I mostly used information on the battle found in Appendix A, "Durin's Folk," from The Return of the King.
> 
> Khuzdul Translations:
> 
> Baruk Khazâd: Axes of the Dwarves  
> Khazâd ai-mênu: The Dwarves are upon you  
> Ai-rusê: Upon the filth  
> Du-bekâr: To arms


	11. I Come Back to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dania and Dís impatiently wait for the Dwarves to come back from Moria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind;  
> And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind." — William Shakespeare

A single, solitary snowflake landed on the glass that shielded Dania from the outside world. It was morning still, or so she deduced from the rosy sky, steeped in the sun's gentle blood. She had not slept. Not last night, nor the one before, either. She felt even more alone when she closed her eyes, and she was afraid of what her thoughts might reveal to her in the deep tunnels of her dreams. 

It had been only three days since the Dwarves had left to reclaim Moria, but the longest three days Dania had ever suffered. Thorin's promise resounded in her head, but it was no use. She could not help but think that perhaps she would never see him again, and she cursed herself for not having dared to tell him how she felt. Now he would never know . . .

She heard the sound of blankets shifting on the bed behind her and wiped her tears away, not wanting to worry Dís. Dania had been staying with her and her mother, Lady Adís, so that she would not have to be alone during these hard times. But Dania felt more alone than ever. She and Dís had not spoken about her running off toward Thorin the other day. Dís had insisted, of course, both because she was stubbornly curious and because she did not want her friend to suffer. Her concern touched Dania, but she could not bring herself to tell her how she felt because she knew that she and Thorin could never be together. He was a prince, and she was nothing. 

"Did you even sleep at all?" Dís' voice sounded from behind. 

Dania turned around and shook her head. 

Dís seemed tired enough to keep sleeping, but instead, she sat up and motioned for Dania to sit beside her. Sighing, Dania took her place on the bed, but she said nothing. 

"I know you are worried," Dís began hesitantly, "but I want you to know that you can tell me anything. I am your best friend — I cannot stand to see you suffer so."

Dania gave her a small smile and nodded, not trusting her voice. She hoped Dís knew how much she meant to her. 

"I am glad you are here with me," Dís said. "I feel much less alone."

"So do I," Dania said. 

It was true. She had never felt so alone, but she could not imagine how much worse it would have been without Dís. The girls embraced each other in a tight hug, and though Dania did not say anything, she thanked Mahal for giving her such a wonderful sister. She knew Dís felt the same, and for that reason, she smiled for the first time since their families had left. 

"Do you think they are all right?" Dís asked in a murmur after a moment of silence. 

Dania frowned. She thought of her father, and Thorin, and Frerin, and felt her fears rise in her throat once more, but to her surprise, she nodded. 

"Thorin promised me he would return," she said. "I have to trust that he will. That is all I have."

Dís pulled away and stared at her for a moment. Dania knew questions were racing inside her friend's mind, but she was afraid of what might happen if she answered them. 

"Do you love him?" Dís asked suddenly, catching Dania off guard. 

Dania felt her heart clench in her chest, and she closed her eyes. She could picture him perfectly in her mind. She could still feel his blue eyes boring into her own, and she could see his smile, made all the more precious because of its rarity. She was miles away from him, and all she wanted to do was to hold him in her arms, the same as when he was standing in front of her. 

"Yes," she breathed out, feeling both relieved and scared of having said it out loud. 

She looked up to see Dís smiling weakly at her, but Dania only shook her head. 

"But it cannot be."

Dís frowned and gently grabbed her friend's hands. 

"Do not think about," she said softly. 

"How can I not?" 

Tears were now streaming down Dania's face. She cursed herself for being so weak, but more than this, she cursed Mahal for having made her and Thorin's love so impossible. 

"I think if you really love him — which you clearly do, you should fight for it," Dís said. 

Dania thought about it for a moment. _Nothing ever comes on a silver platter_ , she thought, _I should know that._ _Maybe Dís is right_. Then again, Dania could not bring herself to accept it because she knew the obstacles would be as great as that wretched dragon sickness. These obstacles could be circumvented, but she could not let that happen. She could not let him sacrifice everything for her. She _would_ not. 

She surprised herself by admitting this to Dís, something she had kept inside her for so long, something that had tortured her even more deeply when she had dared to imagine Thorin felt the same. Now she knew how he felt, and these thoughts haunted her day and night. She would not. 

"That is not your decision to make," Dís said simply. Dania supposed she was right, but whatever her friend thought, Dania told herself that she could never be so selfish, even if she wanted to be, desperately. 

That night, Dania was finally able to get some sleep. She and Dís slept close to one another in the same bed, and for the first time, Dania saw that her friend was terrified. She realized she _had_ been selfish, for Dís was just as worried about her family as she was. Unlike Dania, she would one day marry her One, but how cruel would it be if war separated the two of them. Dania held her tightly for the rest of the night as she tried to ease the pain of her nightmares, but she knew she could give Dís no more comfort than she could give her. 

Lady Adís seemed in much better spirits than the two young women. She would tell them stories about her childhood in Erebor, and some about Thorin and Frerin that made the girls snicker as they thought of teasing the boys with some of the more embarrassing information they had just been given on them. Lady Adís would also have a list of chores ready for them every day. They were washing the dishes, mending clothes, going on errands to the village, and so on. Dania knew these were only to keep them too busy to think of the danger their families were in. It also made them so tired that their minds did not have time to wander into dangerous territory before bed. They fell asleep almost as soon as their heads hit their pillows. 

One night, these tactics did not work for Dania. So as to not bother Dís again, she had slipped out of her bedroom and settled on the sofa in the sitting room downstairs. It had been three weeks now since Thrain's army had left for Moria. Three weeks since she had last seen Thorin and her father. 

"Having trouble sleeping?"

She jumped slightly as a melodious voice sounded behind her. Dania turned to face her but saw that Lady Adís had moved to sit beside her. 

"I am sorry," Dania said, "I did not mean to wake you."

"There is no need to apologize," the Queen said. "Is something troubling you?"

The care Dania heard in her voice made tears spring to her eyes. She cursed herself for crying in front of Lady Adís, who was always so strong and composed. 

"My father is the only family I have left," Dania whispered, afraid of hearing the words herself. "I don't know what I'll do if — if something — "

"Shh," Lady Adís silenced her as she wrapped a protective arm around her. "These thoughts will do nothing to ease your pain, child."

Dania looked up to her, only to see a small smile on the Queen's face. She seemed genuinely worried about her, and Dania's heart was warmed by the kindness that emanated from the Queen. 

"I would like to tell you that everything will be alright," she went on, "but you are intelligent enough to know those words would be nought but empty. But you are wrong to say he is the only family you have."

Dania gave her a confused look. The Queen only smiled weakly. 

"My daughter, for one, cares deeply about you," she said, making a small smile appear on Dania's lips. "I, too, care about you, Dania. And trust me when I say that I will take care of you if ever something were to happen."

Dania felt her heart swell inside her chest. She had always looked up to Lady Adís, always admired her. She saw in her the best of Thorin's traits. Even though his tender side was rarely observable, she knew he took it from his mother. She was always so caring, especially with her children. That had ever made Dania's heart both warm and cold, for such a love was known to her only in her most distant past. Now she saw that the Queen held the same care in her eyes as she eyed her, and her tears doubled. 

"Thank you," she said quietly as she hastily wiped her tears away. 

"Do not thank me," Lady Adís said softly. "But promise me that you will tell me if ever you are feeling scared or lonely ever again. I am here for you."

Dania only nodded. She was shocked when the Queen leaned in to hold her in a warm embrace, but she was grateful. She had never felt such a tender touch, and as such, she had never felt so reassured, so comforted. 

Slowly, sounds reached their ears from the streets. Looking out of the window, they saw a Dwarf come out of his house and stare at something at the other end of the road. More came out, and soon many began to cheer loudly. 

Dania looked to the Queen, but she was already on her feet and opening the front door before stepping out into the cold night. Dania followed suit. A smile appeared on her lips as she heard the sound of slow footsteps and the faint rattling of metal. They were back. 

Dania let out a relieved laugh as her eyes landed on Thorin at the head of the column. Safe, unharmed, and returned to her at last. His eyes caught hers, and as she melted under his piercing gaze, she was reminded of the word carved on the blade sitting on her nightstand. But then the light from the awakening households illumined his face, and she caught something hidden deep beneath his composed stance. Pain, so much pain. She felt a shiver creep through her spine as she thought of the source of his suffering. She also saw that save from the mithril chainmail beneath his tunic — which was ripped and bloodied — he no longer wore his armour. the cheering stopped around her. 

She felt her feet slowly guide her toward him until she found herself facing him. They stood as close to each other as when they had parted. Couples and families were holding each other tightly all around them, while some were being comforted by their neighbours as they ached for their lost ones. No one paid Thorin and Dania any attention, but they said nothing, as though this was not real. As though they were not really facing one another. Forgetting herself, and the fact that they stood in the middle of the street, Dania reached out to him and placed a gentle hand on his arm. She had never felt so far from him. His name escaped her lips in a soft, pleading whisper, but his eyes only widened before he pulled himself away from her touch. Dania frowned, more confused than ever as she watched him walk away. She could barely process what was happening around her as her father ran toward her and embraced her. She sensed a smile forming on her lips, but she felt cold. Her fingers still tingled from Thorin's touch, reminding her of his absence. 

"So few of you have returned," Dania murmured as she glanced around her. "What happened?" 

Her father gave her a long look before he spoke, confusing her all the more. "This is only the beginning."

She did not have time to ponder his words as she noticed Frey approaching her. She gave him a small smile, glad to see him alive, but she frowned when she saw that he, too, seemed tortured by an invisible wound. 

"She is sleeping upstairs," Dania said, "I should go wake her, she will be so glad to see you — "

"Dania — "

He paused, swallowing thickly. 

"Yes?" she said. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. Before he could tell her, the sound of a loud cry reached her ears. She turned her head slightly, only to see King Thrain holding his wife tightly in his arms as she wept loudly. Everything around Dania stopped, and the absence of one person branded itself in her heart so that she felt her blood freeze in her veins. 

"Frerin is gone," Frey said.

Dania turned to look at him again and shook her head slowly. She let out a ragged breath, as though all the warmth that had filled her upon seeing them come back was being sucked out of her. Everything hit her at once. She would never see him again, never tease him again, or hear his laugh. _Mahal, why?_ she asked herself. She could not understand. All she felt was pain, festering inside her like a poisoned wound. 

"I am sorry," Frey said before walking away, knowing there was nothing more to be said. 

Dania turned around to see him running toward Dís, who was now standing in the doorway. They greeted one another with fiery urgency, jumping into each other's arms and sharing a deep and loving kiss. Dania's gaze then turned to Thorin, who was looking at her as tears streamed down his face. He seemed broken, _lost_. Everything she had wanted to tell him when he had left her came rushing back to her, but those hopes and dreams felt like they had belonged to another person. She did not know how she knew, but she saw at that moment that their lives would never be the same. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm sorry it took so long to post a new chapter, especially considering it's so short! I hope you liked it anyways and if you did please leave a kudos and comment, please!
> 
> I also want to say that I have almost completed the next chapter already, I only need to do some (heavy) editing. This next chapter will be much longer, and it is also one I believe you have all been waiting for. I'll say no more . . . :)


	12. I Am Yours, and You Are Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One hour of right-down love is worth an age of dully living on. — Aphra Behn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! First of all, I am very sorry that I am only uploading this update today. It has taken me so much more time to get it right — and I am still not completely satisfied with it. Sigh, I guess it will just always be better in my head. Secondly, I want to apologize (or not?) for the never-ending journey you are about to embark on with this chapter, which is at over 8000 words. It looks like I really have no self-control when it comes to Thorin . . . no spoilers . . . ;)
> 
> Without further ado — here is the long-awaited 12th chapter! I hope you enjoy it and if you do please don't forget to comment! (as always references and translations are at the end of the chapter)

Walking back to the house helped Dania get past the initial shock she had felt upon hearing of Frerin's passing, but she had to force herself not to think about it — an impossible task. She had been so worried these past weeks, but the reality she was faced with was the worst nightmare of all. She wanted to scream. In her head, she did. She screamed at Frerin as he left for battle, begging him not to leave. _He was so young_ , she thought, _he should never have gone_. 

Something else had simmered inside her since the army had come back. It made her feel guilty, selfish. As deep as the wound caused by the loss of Frerin on that battlefield, she had been more than relieved to see Thorin again. Even now, all she could think about was holding him, comforting him, because she knew that his grief would be greater than hers. He had lost his brother — she could not imagine how that must have killed him. 

As soon as she stepped through the front door, she slammed it shut behind her and let herself sink to the floor and wept, surrendering momentarily to her grief and confusion, but slowly she began to quiet. The house was empty, and a deadly cold reigned as it had been for the past three weeks. Her father was still with the King as a council had been called. He had told her he would not be back until the next day, for they had much to discuss. Then he had apologized repeatedly, knowing Dania was grieving, but she had not had the strength to say anything. 

She forced herself to stand up to start a fire lest she freezes to death in her sleep. The fire was burning low, and apart from the moon creeping through the window, it was dark. The light barely outlined the stiff furniture, but Dania knew every inch of the small space. She tried to recreate the room in her mind as it appeared in broad daylight, and she could see all its nooks and crannies, but she could not even trick herself into occupying her mind. 

Her hands clutched her skirts so hard she thought the fabric might tear. Then she pulled at the skin on her arms, desperately trying to feel something, _anything_ other than the hole she felt in her heart. She had known loss before, and perhaps the last time it had been worse, for she had loved her mother more than anyone. Nevertheless, there was an indescribable feeling crawling inside her veins, and she was forced to admit that she had been terribly afraid to lose Thorin — more so than she was afraid to lose anyone. It might have been foolish — _it was,_ she told herself — but Durin knows she could not stop herself from experiencing these feelings, and that was why she could not stop the tears from flowing down her face, soaking her cheeks and bodice. 

There was something between them that made her skin tingle and her heart flutter. She wanted him, she wanted him so badly — yet she knew it could never be. Thorin was a prince. _How many times must I remind myself of this?_ She thought as she shook her head. Now that she knew he felt the same, she felt an overwhelming urge to confess her feelings to him, but another part of her — perhaps the more cautious one — knew this was a bad idea. It could only lead to disappointment. 

Dania jumped as a knock sounded on the door. She thought of ignoring it but then thought that it might be urgent and stood. Her clammy hands settled on the handle as her heart thumped rapidly inside her chest from nervousness, or curiosity, perhaps. As soon as the door was open, and she saw who was standing in front of her, her heart began to pound even more wildly. 

"What are you doing here?" she asked, forgetting both courtesy and the fact that she looked like a stray dog.

Thorin gulped nervously. "I — er — came to see if you were alright," he said, and now her heart was bouncing up and down like a ball.

"I should be the one asking you that," she chuckled and bit her lip, "but I'm alright, thank you."

He nodded, then gulped, but said nothing. They both stared at each other in silence, and her eyes wandered to the dried blood and dirt still clinging to his face and clothes. Then she realized he was shivering from the cold that reigned outside, and brought him inside. A little voice inside her head was screaming at her to tell him while another scorned her by saying that this was the worst time to do such a thing. She pushed away all those thoughts and gestured for him to sit down on the sofa and sat down herself near him. 

They were silent for a while, but Dania knew not to rush him. After a moment, he began to speak, recounting the atrocities that had befallen them at Moria. As he spoke, Dania stared into his eyes — his beautiful blue eyes. They were once so full of life, but now they seemed beaten down, and she was forced to look away. He did not tell her how Frerin died, which was the last thing she would have wanted to hear. Her eyes filled with tears as she watched him breathe in low and ragged breaths, fighting for the strength to keep talking. Then his shoulders quaked as a dry sob escaped his lips. Dania felt her heart being ripped into a thousand pieces, and she was filled with a sudden urge to hold him tightly in her arms, but she stopped herself. 

He went on to describe how in his rage he had stood before the pale Orc named Azog, and how it had been sheer luck that had spared him from suffering the same end as his brother. Now everyone in Middle-earth would know him as Thorin Oakenshield, the one who had singlehandedly defeated the defiler using an oaken branch as a shield, but all Dania saw was how devoted and selfless Thorin was and how he would have sacrificed even his life to save those he loved, and her admiration for him took on an even bigger meaning. 

A moment of silence ensued before she spoke. 

"We should get you out of these clothes."

Her voice trembled as she spoke, her eyes fixed on his torn and bloodstained clothes. She could not bring herself to meet his gaze. 

He gave a small chuckle. "Aye, we should," he said with a forced smile.

They both stood, but he stayed still in the middle of the room, and Dania thought that perhaps he did not have the strength to go home to his grieving family. This thought sent another surge of sadness and pity in her heart.

"I can prepare a bath for you if you'd like," she said, and he gave a slight nod.

Dania straightened herself and went into the adjoining room, fitted with a tub. The pipes brought hot water from the hot springs nearby so that when she pulled the lever, warm water oozed onto her cold hands. She watched the bathtub fill itself, but turned around when she heard footsteps behind her. Thorin was standing in the doorway; his empty eyes fixed on the rising surface of the water.

Slowly, she made her way toward him and placed a hand against his chainmail, feeling the slow thudding of his heart. She began to pull the chainmail over his head, but he moved to do it himself by placing his hands above hers. They lingered there for a moment, and Dania lifted her head and met his gaze. His eyes were filled with such tenderness that she felt herself blush — a blush that only doubled once he had pulled his tunic and chainmail over his head, leaving her to stare at his naked chest, which was marked by a wicked gouge on his side. 

"You're hurt," she said with an alarmed frown. 

"Nothing serious —"

"It could be infected — why did no one tend to you?" 

He knew what she was asking her: why had he not told anyone he was hurt?

Her frown deepened as she saw his eyes fill with tears once more. Without asking, she knew what he was thinking of. That only brought the thought back to the surface. She wanted to crawl into his arms and be comforted, but she knew it to be unwise, but also that he needed just as much comfort — if not more. Thorin extended his arm and brought his hand to her cheek, feeling the dampness of drying tears. The touch made her skin ripple into goosebumps, and her breath hitched in her throat so that her voice came out all quivering. 

"He's in a better place now, " she whispered, "far from grief and war . . ."

Thorin nodded slowly but said nothing. Dania sighed deeply before straightening herself and walking out into the sitting room to give him privacy. She broke down as soon as the door was shut behind her, tears streaming down her face. A part of her knew she was right: he was in a better place, but another part of her wished he was still here. Frerin had always been so full of life, too kind, too good for this harsh and terrible world, and he had suffered the most cruel and unfair end.

Dania took a deep breath to settle herself. She did not want to be weak; she wanted to be strong. She needed to be strong, especially for Thorin. She set about to boil some water and gather some herbs and alcohol to treat Thorin's wound. She was removing the water from the fire when she heard Thorin walk toward her. She felt heat rise inside her as she saw that he wore nothing but his black leather pants. Water droplets still clung to the hairs on his sculpted chest. Hoping he did not notice her stare, she turned around and opened a glass jar in which she poured out a small amount of a dried plant. Her mother had been a gifted healer, and she had told her about one particular plant with powerful healing properties. 

"What is that?" he said skeptically. 

" _Athelas_ ," she said as she began to crush the dried plant before infusing the water with it. She caught Thorin's blank expression and could not help the faint smile that formed on her lips. "Sit," she said as she motioned to the chair, she had pulled for him. 

"What are you going to do with that?" 

She sighed. "I'm going to treat your wound because you were too stubborn to ask for help."

It was his turn to give her a faint smile, but she merely gave him an exasperated look. " _Sit_."

This time he did as he was told. Dania felt his eyes fixed on her, following her every movement as she soaked a handkerchief in the warm water before pouring a bit of wine onto it so that she could cleanse his wound. Then she kneeled before him to get a better look and winced, not accustomed to seeing such gruesome injuries. 

"This might sting a little," she said apologetically. 

"I've suffered worse," Thorin said, but a groan escaped his lips the moment the fabric touched his skin.

"Sorry," she said, "I'll be quick. I only need to clean it before I apply the _Athelas_. Here — have some of this," she handed him the bottle of wine, and he wasted no time before taking a long sip, eager to drown out the pain. 

She tried to rub the handkerchief on his skin as carefully as she could, but some of the dried blood came away with a soft crackling, making room for droplets of fresh blood to ooze out of the edges of the wound. Dania quickly wiped it away before adding some more water and wine onto the cloth. 

"How did it happen?" she asked, trying to distract herself as much as he. 

He shrugged. "I did not even realize I was injured until I was digging — the graves."

A lump appeared in her throat, and she looked away. Not wanting to see the pain she knew was etched onto his face — the same pain that marked her own features. 

Then she felt his hands on her chin, propping her to look at him. The distance she had tried to keep between them was stretched thin as they stared at each other, and she was forced to admit that she would never be able to resist him. Not now, not ever. But she had to. Tearing herself away from his gaze, his hand fell slowly to his side, but she did not look up to see the look on his face, even though curiosity burned inside her. She did quick work of applying the _athelas_ mixture to the wound, then wrapped a piece of cloth around his abdomen to control bleeding. She kept her mind blank, focusing on the pattern of the fabric, then on the ripples in the water as she rinsed the handkerchief in the pot. She did not speak, either, not trusting her voice. 

But then she felt a hand on her arm, and she stilled. The touch sent ripples to the center of her heart, making her feel powerless as a puppet. Her feelings had the upper hand, and as much as she fought the urges of both her heart and body, all it took was one look from him to melt all barriers she had erected. The goosebumps on her skin marked the shifting tides inside her that made her inch closer to him, yearning for his touch. His hand came to rest on her cheek, and the other grasped her free hand, fingers lacing together like melted metal poured into a mould, made for this very purpose. In that moment, nothing else mattered. The past seemed irrelevant; the future, unnecessary. 

Cursing herself for doing so, Dania looked up to him. There was suddenly a strange shyness between them as though they were strangers, wandering in the night, barely greeting each other before moving on. But then his eyes softened, and she saw reflected in them all her unspoken feelings, telling her that they were not strangers. They were not even friends; they were so much more than that. 

His forehead rested against hers for a moment before his lips met hers, taking her breath away. It was slow and soft and comforting in ways that words would never be. His beard was rough against her cheeks, but his lips were soft like summer, and in the kiss, she tasted the remnants of the wine he had sipped. His hand rested below her ear, cupping her face as he brought her closer to him. She had dreamed about what it would feel like to kiss him so many times she had lost count, but it was so much better than she could have ever imagined. The fear of disappointment still lingered at the back of her mind, but Dania knew that even if this were to be her only kiss from him, she would never kiss another. No one would ever compare to him. 

When they pulled apart, they stayed in silence for a moment before she spoke the words she knew would break his heart. 

"This will never work."

To her surprise, Thorin kissed her again in response, this time with more urgency, but the same tenderness caressed her. Both his hands held her face, and Dania felt warmth radiate from her lips and spread through her whole body. But she forced herself to pull away once more. 

"Thorin — "

"Do not speak," he whispered, his face still only inches from her. She knew by the slight quiver in his voice that he shared her fears and confusion. 

"Thorin, you're a prince," she said in a low voice, still holding onto him, "and I'm just — "

He placed a trembling finger on her lips to silence her. "Please don't say it, Dany," he said. " _Please_."

Tears now filled his eyes, and by the blurred image before her, Dania knew she was also crying. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, reminding her of how much she did not want him to let go. 

"Your father would never approve," she said bitterly. 

Thorin sighed deeply, knowing this was true, but he did not surrender. "Then we can keep it a secret, for now." 

Dania gave him a dubious look, wondering how that could ever work. Thorin saw her hesitation and pressed her even closer to him so that she felt his heart beating against her own. 

"I will fight for us," he said before placing a soft kiss on her forehead. "It will take time, but I will not give up. I am yours forever."

Dania felt a small smile etch itself on her face as she those words wrapped themselves around her like a blanket on a cold night. She felt comforted by him as she had never felt in her whole life, but she was afraid it was all a dream and that it would fade away. 

"Why?" she asked. 

Thorin frowned in confusion.

"Why would you want to be with me when you know it is impossible?" she asked. "You could have anyone."

Dania trembled as she spoke such words, almost wishing he would not answer her. 

"A poor heir to a lost throne," he mused. "No, I do not think I _could_ have anyone."

She did not understand how he could think so little of himself, but she did not have time to say anything before he went on. 

"In any case, I do not want anyone. I want _you_."

He kissed her again, this time on her cheek. Dania had never thought such a simple gesture could feel so intimate, so passionate. She let her eyes close as she emptied her mind of all but the feel of his lips against her skin. She felt his warm breath ghost across her face, and hundreds of tiny hairs prickling her soft cheeks as he rested his lips all over her face. When he pulled away, Dania found herself inching closer to him, eager to experience his touch again. She opened her eyes to see Thorin staring at her with a small smile, and his filled with such raw tenderness that she felt herself blush. 

"I am a fool," he said suddenly, making her frown. "I was so afraid of your rejection that I did not dare ever admit my feelings to you. But Frerin thought he knew the extent of your feelings, and that gave me hope," he paused for a moment after voicing his brother's name, and Dania looked deep into his eyes, telling him that she shared and understood his pain as though it was her own. 

"When I was on that battlefield, all I could think of was you, and how much I should have told you because now there was a chance I might never see you again."

"You are here now," Dania said, wanting to share all his fears and doubts as much as his hopes and dreams. 

"Aye," he chuckled, kissing her hand absently. Her skin still burned from his touch as he went on. "I told myself I would not run away from this if I came back because no matter how hard I know this will be, I never want to be parted from you. And if you will not have me, trust me when I tell you that I will never love another, for how could I ever have another, lesser love when I have known you?" 

Dania felt all the air being taken from her lungs once more, her heart fluttering wildly like a caged bird inside her chest.

"Is this your way of telling me that you love me?" 

Dania did not know what else to say. She had known, of course, given the dagger and the kiss, but to hear him say that she was the only one for him was another thing entirely. Her heart swelled inside her so that she thought she might burst from all the love she felt for the Dwarf before her. 

Thorin chuckled. "I gave you the dagger so that you would know, even if I did not return because I did not dare to openly admit my feelings for you at the time. But since Moria — I have realized that I will do anything to be with you because I know that it is worth more than all the gold in the world." 

Tears pricked Dania's eyes once more, but this time she welcomed them gladly. 

"And now I tell you openly, for I am yours forever, Dany. I love you," he said as a small smile appeared on his lips. 

Dania smiled back at him, and for the first time, she surrendered to her feelings, opening herself up to him completely just as he had done so. 

"I love you, too," she said softly, the words escaping her lips barely above a whisper even though she had never felt so strongly about anything before.

Thorin let out a relieved sigh as the words escaped her lips. His large hands reached out to frame Dania's face, thumbs tracing the outline of her jaw. She was reminded of all the times he had gazed at her with the same warmth and trust that radiated from him at that moment. And now she saw the love that clouded his vision. That love had always been there, just beneath the surface, but now it was flowing from him to her freely, creating a cocoon around the two of them so that the world around them faded. Nothing else mattered but the look of pure love that shone in his eyes and the feel of his hands on her face. 

Feeling her last bit of restraint fading away, Dania lifted her face to catch his lips in a tender kiss. Thorin gasped softly and responded eagerly, his fingers tightening their hold on her as he closed the distance between them. Dania melted into his embrace, feeling her body mould itself to his. The kiss, which started as soft and shy, soon turned more urgent and passionate, filled with silent promises of unequivocal love. 

Thorin's hands moved from her burning cheeks to the back of her head, fingers losing themselves in her long locks, untangling the knots in both hair and heart. Dania's lips parted as a soft sound of pleasure escaped her lips, one that Thorin quickly devoured as his tongue joined with hers. Her hands gripped his broad shoulders tightly, fingers digging into his burning flesh as both of them strove to get even closer. Dania's heartbeat pounded in her ears, beating in sync with the rapid thudding of his heart, which she felt with trembling fingers. She knew she should pull away lest all the air in her lungs be spent, but she did not want to let go. She wanted to taste and explore his very essence until she was sure that her body had tasted enough to recover from all those years of yearning for his touch. 

Thorin shifted in their embrace so that his naked chest caressed Dania's breasts through her bodice, sending a charged current through her body, and heat pooled at the pit of her stomach. Another small moan escaped her lips as she clung to him even more fiercely, but she felt Thorin pull apart suddenly. Confused, she chased his lips to cover them with her own once more, but he took a step back, and she shivered, bereft of his warm body. 

"Thorin — ?"

"I want you, Dany," he growled. 

She noticed then that his eyes were dark, filled with chained fiery lust, which only made the warmness inside her spread to an almost unbearable degree — but it only seemed to pain Thorin. Understanding that he wished to take his time not to overwhelm her, she gathered her courage and took a careful step toward him to close the distance between them. 

"I am yours," she said in a trembling voice. 

"I mean I want — "

"I know what you mean, silly," she said as she placed a soft hand against his chest to find his heart beating erratically. "I am yours, and you are mine."

Thorin leaned in so that their noses touched, but he made no further advance. Dania felt his hesitation still, but she did not rush him, not wanting to ruin their most intimate moment so far. 

"Dany," he sighed, then paused, his eyes locking with hers.

"There is no point in waiting," she said, knowing what he was thinking. 

"I would not dream of ever dishonouring you — we are not married," he spoke in a slow, strained voice, indicating to Dania that he wished it was not so. "And — "

He paused again, but Dania did not need him to say it out loud. She knew. There was no guarantee that they would _ever_ be. This thought sent a chill through her, reminding her of her doubts and fears. But if there was one thing she would never doubt, it was her love for Thorin — and she knew now more than ever that she wanted to be with him no matter what it cost her. 

"We may not ever be officially married," she said, feeling Thorin tremble against her as she spoke, but she forced him to look into her eyes so that he could see the love she had for him, hoping he would understand. "But Mahal knows all it takes is the two of us. You could never dishonour me, Thorin, because I want this. I want _you,_ and _only_ you _._ I need no other promise but the one you make with your heart tonight." 

There was a short pause before his mouth claimed hers with fiery hunger. Without ever breaking the kiss, Dania led him into her bedroom, her heart hammering in her chest. She was forced to break the kiss as the room was completely dark, and moved to light a candle, not wanting to miss a single detail of this moment. The room was still dark, lit only by a small flickering yellow, the shapes of the furniture discernible, but the colours so muted that they seemed almost grey. She turned to face Thorin and saw the flame dancing in his eyes. The dim candlelight made his bones appear sharp, yet his skin as mellow as a sweet summer peach. 

He took a step toward her before pulling her hard against his body. Dania parted her lips, and a soft moan escaped her, giving Thorin a chance to seek dominance as she lost herself in his taste and the scent of leather and earth and musk that was uniquely his. Dizzy with desire, Dania could do nothing but follow the rhythm of his lips as she felt warmth bloom in the pit of her stomach once more. The kiss deepened as his hands moved to the small of her back so that no air was left between them, the heat radiating from him scorching her breasts through the fabric of her dress. 

His hands slowly moved to the ties of her bodice, but before he could pull and free her from the constraints of her garments, which prevented him from touching her, he paused. His fervent kisses came to a halt, and Dania looked up to see him gazing at her as though he could not believe she was real and that she could ever want to pledge himself to him for all eternity. The sight made her blush more than what she knew was about to come. 

"Are you _certain_ this is what you what?" he asked softly, the tenderness of his voice echoing the expression in his eyes. 

Dania paused before chuckling lightly, wondering how he could not see that she _clearly_ wanted this, but then she understood that he was asking to make sure that she was only doing things she was absolutely ready for, and her heart fluttered at seeing him so gentle, so attentive, yet ready to burst and be overcome by desire at any moment. She felt lightheaded, her whole body tingling with excitement and desire, and her heart overflowing with affection. 

"I want this, Thorin," she said, staring straight into his eyes before she pressed a soft and reassuring kiss onto his lips. "I want this more than anything."

That was all he needed to know. His hands tightened their hold on her before he began to slowly unlace her bodice. Thorin lifted his head so that their eyes met for a single, endless moment in which Dania saw the young boy she had watched from afar as a child; the Prince that had walked into Geth's shop one day asking for maps to long lost lands; the patient tutor who had taught her how to defend herself and the tender, attentive, and mesmerizing Dwarf who had just confessed his love for her all superimposed in a single image. All the same — all Thorin. He was the one she loved more than life itself; the one person she knew she could never live without. 

Halfway undone, the bodice opened up and released its hold on Dania's aching breasts. Thorin's fingers fumbled with the last strands of the bodice, leaving it forgotten before it even reached the floor. He then placed his large hands against her shoulders, and in one tug, he let her dress sink into a bundle at her feet, leaving her in nothing but her thin chemise and stockings, which soon joined her dress and bodice on the bedroom floor. Dania stared at her discarded clothes for an instant before looking up to see Thorin studying her intently. His eyes travelled from her exposed breasts to the swell of her hips until they reached the small patch of hair between her legs. She was not as hairy as Dwarven women usually were — but she was not like the Elven maidens, either hairless safe for the hair on their brows and heads. Instead, her physiology resembled human women most, but her pale skin and pointed ears, combined with her short height and thick, luscious hair, marked her as one born of two races — blessed by both Mahal and Ilúvatar. 

Dania trembled awkwardly, desperately searching for Thorin's reassurance. But when he continued to watch her in silence, her face grew hot, and she was forced to look down at her feet as her fears of rejection rose to the surface once more. _He probably expected me to be more like a Dwarrowdam_ , she thought bitterly, thinking he no longer wanted to go through with this. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to think of a way of getting out of this situation when she felt his hands gently lift her chin. 

When her gaze met his, she found his expression softening as he traced her flushed cheeks with his calloused fingers, but he frowned as he noticed the sting of rejection in her eyes. Desperate to make her feel nothing but loved and cherished, he quickly moved to place a soft kiss on her forehead and whispered earnestly against her hairline, "You are the most beautiful person on this earth, Dany."

The words fell slowly from his lips, igniting the fire that had been chased away by fear in Dania's heart. She was surprised by his words, but his eyes vouched for the sincerity with which he spoke. She leaned into his touch, feeling more at ease with him now than she had ever felt with anyone even though she had never been so vulnerable as she exposed both her body and her deepest feelings to him. Unable to control the rush of emotions swirling inside her, a tear escaped her eyes. Confusion was written all across Thorin's face as he quickly wiped her cheek. 

"Please, Dany, do not cry," he said as he looked into her eyes, desperately searching for the cause of her disconcertment. 

"I'm sorry, it's just — " 

She gave him a weak smile and let out a small, nervous laugh to shrug it off, but she felt disappointed in herself for ruining this moment. Thorin said nothing and kissed her forehead once more, telling her that he did not share her thoughts. To him, the moment was untainted by Dania's ever-turning wheel of emotions but made all the more precious because of it — it was perfect simply because it was _her_. 

His touch reassured Dania, giving her the strength to put forth the cause of her discomfiture and making her wonder why she had suddenly felt so nervous. 

"I just never thought I'd be so lucky as to be here with you."

The soft smile he gave her somehow managed to throw Dania into an even bigger swirl of emotions as her heart pounded against her ribcage, making her naked breasts heave in tandem with Thorin's rising chest. 

"It is I who is lucky, _givashel_."

As the word fell from his lips, Dania gasped, but Thorin swallowed the sound by claiming her lips in a tender kiss. Fighting the urge to simply lose herself in the smell and taste of him once more, Dania paused for a moment and took a deep breath. 

"Let me see you," she whispered against his lips. 

Thorin gulped nervously as he took a step back, his hands reaching for the ties of his black leather pants. Following his movements, Dania's eyes widened as she noticed his growing need pressed against his pants, showing her that he had not lied: he wanted her, badly. His impatient fingers did quick work of unlacing his trousers, allowing him to tug them down his muscled legs. Dania's breath hitched in her throat as he tossed them aside before straightening up, allowing her to rest her eyes upon the length of him for the first time, covered only by the bandage she had wrapped around him. 

His body was just as exquisite as she had imagined, and now she allowed herself to linger on the parts of him she had earlier been too shy and nervous to dwell upon. His entire physique showcased a strength that would have intimidated her if she had not been so well acquainted with his character. To her, his broad frame had only ever promised unattainable safety and protection, but which would now be her promised sanctuary against the hardships they would face.

She took her time just as he had, taking in every detail from his broad shoulders to the coarse hairs that covered his muscular chest, falling into a line of finer strands down his abdomen. She gulped as her eyes landed on his manhood, growing nervous at the thought, but she looked up to see him gazing at her tenderly, amused by the loving gaze that explored his body, seeming to penetrate his very soul. The look in his eyes gave her courage, and she took a step forward, reaching out to lay her hands flat against his chest, at last touching him freely for the first time as the heat of him seeped into her skin. 

Thorin breathed deeply, revelling in the new sensation of her delicate fingers upon his skin, tracing the taut shape of his muscles and the broken lines of old scars, seeming to be healed once more by her magic touch. His breathing became ragged and uneven as her fingers trailed downward, inching closer to his growing need for her, but as they brushed against the hairs that grew there, his control snapped, and he took hold of her hands. 

Dania gasped at the sudden pressure on her wrists, but whatever she may have said was silenced by Thorin, desperately capturing her lips with his own. His hands began to roam freely about her body as he tasted her with more passion and urgency than he had so far allowed himself to unleash. He gently caressed her breasts, the pads of his thumbs circling her hardening nipples, making her sigh with pleasure. 

Her back arched in response to his touch, and they became a single, tangled mess of limbs as he wrapped her legs around him to carry her onto the soft furs of the bed. His hands grasped at her flesh as soon as her head hit the pillow, caressing the curve of her breasts before his lips closed in on her nipple, making her cry out. Dania's hands moved to the back of his head, and she pulled at his long locks, making him moan against her sensitive skin, sending shivers running up her spine. 

His nose nudged the underside of her jaw as he left a trail of kisses up her neck before claiming her lips once more while his hands trailed down along her stomach until they came to rest between her legs. The muscles in her lower abdomen contracted, and she gasped with the sheer intensity of her need for him, feeling overwhelmed by the mounting pleasure coursing through her veins. Her hands fumbled the furs so hard her knuckles turned white as snow, and a low and animalistic moan escaped her lips, making Thorin groan as he nibbled at her ear. But then she felt his hands recede, ending too quickly a moment she wished would never end. She looked up to him, dumbfounded, as the sound of her heartbeat buzzed in her ears. 

"I thought I would give you something better," he said softly. 

Dania's eyes widened suddenly; she had heard more than a few times that one's first time was painful — excruciating by the words of some, even, and to say that she was worried was an understatement. The sudden intensity of her passion and need for Thorin had clouded her mind, but now the reasons for holding up such a monumental step came back to her. She could remember Ester's words clearly: _Come on, a dwarf like that, he must be a beast in bed!_ She shivered involuntarily and drew her legs closer together, trapping Thorin more tightly between them. She hoped she had hidden her growing nervousness well enough, but she could not conceal her emotions to one who knew her so well. 

"We do not have to do anything you are uncomfortable with, Dany," He said softly, frowning as he brushed the hair out of her face, tracing the redness of her cheeks as she avoided his gaze, confusing him all the more. 

"No! No, I want this," she responded hastily said. "It's just, well, I — I've heard the first time is painful."

"I will not hurt you," he said solemnly, voicing the concern that filled his eyes. 

She knew he meant well, but she could not get Ester's words out of her head. It was in these kinds of moments she wished her mother was still alive so that she might have given her some form of guidance. Resigning herself, she sighed and opened the door to what she would have preferred remain secret forever. 

"How — " she began, struggling to form the words as she bit her lips. "How was it for the others?"

She tried to sound unaffected, but the words tumbled from her lips with a tremble. 

Thorin frowned as though he did not understand. "What do you mean?" 

Dania grunted in annoyance, fiddling with a loose strand of hair as she tried to regain control of her emotions before speaking up, but her voice came out squeaky and brittle.

"The other girls you bedded!" 

Thorin's mouth stood agape as he processed what she had just said. Then he gulped heavily before placing both of his hands against her cheeks. 

"There have been no others," He said softly. "You are the first."

 _Oh_ , she thought. Whatever answer she had been expecting, it had not been that. She was shocked to find out that a dwarf as caring and loving and not the least handsome had never been with a Dwarrowdam the way they were about to be. Then she was deeply touched, and the tingling in her heart swelled anew.

"You really thought I did this with any girl?" He asked. "You know me better than that."

Dania blushed but answered him as honestly as she could. "Well, have you seen you? You're so . . . so . . . "

She waved a hand to indicate that his wonderfulness exceeded her vocabulary, making Thorin smile fondly at her. 

"You flatter me, _amrâlimê_ ," he said, the deepness of his voice mingled with the tenderness of the word sending shivers up her spine. "Though I have to admit, I think I am only capable of having that effect on you — not that I mind, of course."

Dania frowned, not understanding how he could say such things when she saw him to be the most gorgeous person on earth. She ran her fingers through his hair as he watched her, her fingers grazing the cold of the beads that held his braids, and she smirked as another memory came to mind. 

"That is not true," she said. "At least, Ester did not think so."

Thorin smirked before shaking his head. "How can you stand her?" he asked, catching her off guard. "That girl does nothing but spread idle gossip and cling to Dwalin like a harpy."

Dania laughed heartily — a welcomed feeling after the tribulations of the past hours. Thorin joined her, the sound of his laughter warming Dania's heart. 

"I tolerate her, that is all," she said as their laughter died down. "Though I have to admire her taste in Dwarf."

A mischievous smile now covered her face, making Thorin shake his head.

"You mean Dwalin?"

She giggled in response, making him frown in confusion as his heart swelled with unrestrained love at the sound. 

"I mean _you_ ," she said. "She seemed to be under the impression that you would make a very fine lover." 

She blushed at her own words, given the circumstances, but looked deep into his eyes to see them sparkling with such pure tenderness. He, too, blushed at her words, but the lightness of their conversation helped appease his nerves and gave him the courage to go on. 

He leaned in and kissed her softly, his lips dancing with hers to the melody of their beating hearts. Dania's hands trailed down his side to rest at his hips, her hands digging into his flesh, feeling the strength of his passion returning as the heat inside her swelled anew. His hands returned to the heat between her legs to prepare her for him, and he groaned deep in her ears in response to the whimpers she breathed in his ears. 

Then he removed his hand, tracing it back up her body before it pushed away the strands of hair that covered her face. He moved slowly, wanting to engrave every detail of this moment in his head. Her hair was spread out against the pillow in a starburst, and her eyes sparkled with the light of a thousand stars as she gazed at him through her lashes. She took his breath away. 

One at a time, he placed her hands flat against his chest, but not without placing a tender kiss in the palm of each first. Dania felt his pounding heart beneath his burning flesh, telling her that he shared her nervousness. She felt her heart tighten in her chest, but as they looked deep into each others' eyes, she found herself opening up to him, shifting gently beneath him to better position him between her thighs. 

"If you wish me to stop, tell me," he whispered, his voice quivering with emotion.

She did not answer but merely nodded as she moved one hand to his cheek and caressed him softly. She kept her other hand on his beating heart as he began to move against her more purposefully. Dania took a deep breath and lifted her hips to meet him as he reached a hand down to guide himself in.

She gasped at the sudden feeling of pressure and felt her whole body tense, making Thorin still as he searched her face for any signs of discomfort, but she gestured for him to continue. The pressure inside her grew as he hesitantly rocked his hips in slow movements until he was all the way in, Dania's fingers digging into his chest as a whimper escaped her lips. 

Thorin closed his eyes momentarily, refraining from moving deeper inside the overwhelming heat that constricted every inch of him. 

"Am I hurting you?" Thorin asked worriedly, guilt flooding his every word. 

Dania took another deep breath before speaking, every single one of her nerves on edge as she adjusted to the feeling of having him inside her for the first time. 

"Can you just, er . . . not move — for now?" 

"Of course," he replied softly before kissing her cheeks, then her eyelids and her brows, until he had covered her whole face in small butterfly kisses, easing the pain somehow. "As long as you need."

The love she felt in each of his kisses calmed her throbbing nerves, and soon she felt the searing pain between her legs fade to a gentle warmth that spread into her lower stomach, making her crave more of him. She shifted hesitantly, making him slide even deeper into her so that she felt completely filled. Glancing up to him, she saw the most tender look in his eyes, and she felt overwhelmed by both his loving gaze and the feeling of having him sheathed deep inside her. 

She shared his breath as they gazed at each other in silence, both savouring every second of being one for the very first time. Then the warmth blooming in her belly spread throughout her whole body, and she grasped his shoulders tightly before voicing her readiness. 

"Take me, Thorin," she pleaded with a soft pant in his ears, sending shivers up his spine. 

He began to move inside her, slowly and cautiously, so as not to hurt her. He shifted inside her a few times to find a position and then made her whole body tingle deliciously with a single, fluid stroke. Dania moaned deeply in his ears in response as she wrapped her legs around him, sending him deeper into her heat. 

She began to move, clumsily at first, then perfectly in sync with him, their bodies sliding against each others' as though they had been carved for this very purpose. Thorin leaned in and captured her lips in a fiery kiss, each swallowing the other's moans as his hair spilled over her burning cheeks and framed her face, creating a dark curtain that shielded them from the rest of the world. 

As her whines and pleas became louder and more primal, Thorin began to lose his iron control, his movements becoming more erratic as he gave himself over to her completely, getting lost in the overwhelming feeling of having her respond to his passion with such burning eagerness. 

The sounds that escaped her lips made the heat inside Thorin burst aflame, and seeking to quench his burning need, he began to move faster inside her, causing him to mistime one of his movements so that he slid even deeper into her and hit a spot inside her that made her cry out. 

A blinding light flashed across Dania's eyes as he hit the spot again, and she felt pleasure pooling inside her with an intensity she did not think was possible. Thorin shifted his weight to hold her body tightly against his chest as she trembled with pleasure, her nails digging into his muscular back. Her spasms grew in force, making it harder for him to move inside her, and he knew that he could not last long. Beads of sweat rolled down his trembling arms as he panted heavily in her ears, drowning out the sound of their pounding hearts. 

"Thorin — " 

Dania whined as she writhed beneath him, his name rolling off her tongue like a prayer as she felt her walls tighten around him. Then her body stiffened against him, and she gasped at the intensity of her climax. Waves of pleasure blasted through her, lingering in her limbs, buzzing ceaselessly, making her feel more alive than ever. 

Thorin reached his end slowly after her, groaning in her ears as he struggled to keep himself from falling on top of her. He continued to move inside her as the warmth and wetness of his seed was released deep inside her. 

Dania panted helplessly beneath him, utterly spent, as he rested his head against her breasts, listening to the erratic thudding of her heart. She closed her eyes, her breathing slowly recovering and every one of her senses exaggerated as she felt the buzzing pleasure that lingered in her weakened limbs. 

Thorin was silent against her as he absently left a wet, lingering kiss on her breast. Dania wanted to say something; tell him how much this moment meant to her — how much _he_ meant to her, but all the words she could think of were entirely inadequate. She raised a hand and tenderly caressed his cheek, causing him to look up at her so that she saw the same overfull heart reflected in his deep blue eyes. 

Thorin untangled himself from her and moved to her side before pulling her close, his hand affectionately grazing her side before coming to rest on the small of her back. Despite his loving gaze and the thudding of his heart against her own, Dania felt a need to be reassured of his satisfaction. 

"Was it alright?" she asked shyly, the slight quiver in her voice betraying her fears of rejection.

Thorin frowned for an instant, feeling saddened that even after such an intimate moment, she still doubted herself, but knowing it was his duty to reassure her and make her feel nothing but loved and desired, he placed a soft kiss onto her brows. 

"Well, I have no other frame of reference," he said with a light chuckle as he drew her even closer to him, "but I thought it was perfect."

Dania let out a relieved laugh before claiming his lips in a soft and slow kiss, pouring all the emotions she felt into it as she wrapped her arms around him. 

"I love you."

The words fell from her lips in a whisper, enveloping the two of them in a bubble that was filled only with gentle caresses and soft murmurs of love as they continued to taste one another. 

"I love you, too," Thorin whispered against her lips. "So much that I feel as though my heart will burst." 

Her heart fluttered at his words, and she responded with a deep kiss, knowing words could not describe what she felt for him. She did not know how, or when, but at some point, she must have fallen asleep, comfortably pressed against his chest, feeling more loved and protected than ever before. 

The future held so many uncertainties, but she knew her love for him would never waver and that this love would get her through the deepest of sorrows. 

He was her One. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul translations:
> 
> Givashel: Treasure of all treasures  
> Amrâlimê: My love


	13. A Light In The Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dwarves mourn their lost ones as a new hope is sparked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "You can only come to the morning through the shadows." — J.R.R. Tolkien

The Winter morning's chill still clung to Dania's cloak as she entered the sitting room, finding it colder than the snow-covered streets. Dania had always felt at home in this house — as much as she could halfway across the world from her real home, anyways — but now it felt cold. Unfamiliar. A heaviness reigned inside the room, and Dania felt the air itself was pushing down on her, constricting her movements. 

Dis sat on the sofa, unmoving, her eyes fixed on the flames burning in the hearth. Dania felt as though her friend was so far away in her thoughts that she did not even notice her presence, but when she sat down next to her and opened her arms, Dis took immediate refuge inside the warm embrace. 

Dania felt the princess trembling lightly, which only made her own tears come back. The night she had spent with Thorin had brought her an unexpected comfort during which Frerin's passing had been pushed at the back of her mind, but she could not evade the sickening truth of what had happened forever. Pain stung her heart so hard it felt like a physical wound. 

"Did you talk to Thorin?"

Dania was startled by the question, having not expected her friend to find it in her to breach the subject. She thought that perhaps Dis was asking to distract herself, something Dania understood, and even more than that, she wished she could have used this as an opportunity to distract herself as well. She also wished she could have shared with her best friend all the emotions that were threatening to inundate her, but she was forced to keep most of them secret. Realizing she had not yet spoken, Dania formulated an answer to one of the questions subordinate to Dis' broader inquiry. 

"He would not talk of it," Dania said. "I fear he will never be ready to speak of what happened on that battlefield."

Dis nodded, though Dania could see in her face that that was not the answer she had been seeking. Her response only tightened the knot in Dania's heart, but she could not ignore the promise underlying Thorin's words from the previous night. _We can keep it a secret_ — he would not tell anyone, and neither would she. At least, not before seeing with him if they could trust Dis with their secret. Dania did, of course, but she would take no risks before consulting him. 

She hoped he would share her opinion, for she did not think it would remain a secret long to the princess. Dis would puzzle it out even if they chose not to tell her, Dania was certain. 

"I was certain he would talk to you," Dis spoke in a strained voice. "Out of all people, he would confide in you, I am sure of it. Perhaps later."

Dania nodded absently, her gaze turning to the door as it was pushed open. "Perhaps."

Her eyes landed on a broad-shouldered Dwarf with a mohawk, whom she recognized as Dwalin. He was accompanied by a shorter Dwarf with a long beard whom she deduced must be his brother, Balin, due to the many similarities between the two. 

Dwalin's gaze caught Dania's, and he bowed slightly before turning to Dis, who was eyeing them curiously as she sat upright, her hands still clutching her friend's arm. 

"Dwalin," Dis spoke up, "are you not supposed to be with Thorin?" 

"King Thrain wanted to speak to him alone," Dwalin responded plainly. 

Dania had no way of knowing what it was the King was discussing with his son, but she could not help but feel worried. Could they have found out already?

"We are here to speak to Dania."

Dania started, her uneasiness growing. The King talking to Thorin, and now this? What was going on? She felt Dis' questioning gaze on her and could only shrug in response. 

"Er, alright," Dania said as she stood up. 

She joined them in the far corner of the room, awkwardly waiting for one of them to speak. 

"How are you?" Dwalin asked, making her even more suspicious. 

"I'm . . . fine? You?" 

"These are hard times, but we are managing."

Dania fought the urge to smack herself for being so insensible. 

"I am so sorry for your loss," she faltered, "My father always spoke highly of Fundin; he will be missed."

The two brothers glanced at each other, and Dania could feel their pain. She cursed herself. _I shouldn't be allowed to talk_ , she thought as she tugged at her sleeves in embarrassment. 

"Right, er, "Dwalin swallowed thickly before going on. "We were wondering if you had had the chance to speak with Thorin?"

Dania felt heat rise inside her as she thought of the previous night, but that feeling was quickly replaced with a freezing apprehension. _What do they know?_ she asked herself.

"Not extensively, I am afraid."

The words fell from her lips with a nervous tremor as though she had not commanded every fibre in her body to present nothing but indifference. 

Dwalin nodded absently. "We are worried about him," he said, making her frown. "With everything that has happened. Frerin being — killed right before his eyes and — "

Dania raised her hand to silence him. " _What do you want?_ " She asked through clenched teeth. 

She knew she should not have cut him off so aggressively, but she could not take her words back. She _would_ not take them back, for she would not listen to him talk about that cursed battle. She already knew far more than she could bear. 

Dwalin paused as he looked at her, seeming to grow embarrassed. That was when she felt a tear roll down her cheek. She refused to acknowledge it. 

"We wanted to ask you if you could . . . keep an eye on him. Make sure he is alright," Dwalin said. 

Dania opened her mouth to speak but froze. Her gaze shifted to Balin, who still had not said a word. The two shared a look, and it was not lost on Dania that he did not share his brother's acceptance of her. If anything, he seemed to abhor the thought of asking for her help. 

"Can you not do that yourselves?" she said, unable to keep her annoyance hidden. 

Dwalin frowned as he noted the shift in her voice before giving his brother a stern look. 

"He will not talk to us. Perhaps he is afraid we would perceive him as weak if he spoke of his troubles."

That _did_ sound like Thorin. She would do anything for him, and although a part of her wanted to help Dwalin and Balin, she had to be careful and find out the truth of their intentions before agreeing to anything. 

"And why would he tell me if he will not tell you?" 

"Because I know that you two are good friends and that he trusts you greatly," Dwalin sighed. "I do not yet know if I can trust you, but I would trust Thorin with my life, and so I am willing to place his wellbeing in your hands."

So they did _not_ know, Dania realized with relief. They were only concerned about Thorin. From the look on Balin's face, he would not even consider his prince falling for a Half-Elf — his friendship with one alone was probably beyond his understanding. 

Despite wanting to dispel any thoughts of her and Thorin from everyone's mind to be safe, she could not help but feel warmth bloom inside her upon hearing someone state that Thorin trusted her, perhaps even more so than he did lifelong friends. 

The door to the sitting room opened once again, and —the swell of affection she felt for Thorin upon hearing Dwalin's words still buzzing inside her — she could not stop a blush from creeping on her cheeks as her eyes landed on the prince himself. 

He turned toward her, and a charged current shot up from the ground, capturing them both and keeping their eyes locked on one another so that the room around them disappeared. The flicker in his eyes alone brightened the sombre morning, and upon seeing how magnificent the day had become as soon as he had walked into it, she wondered whether she was worthy of the faith he seemed to have entrusted her with.

The moment was interrupted as Dwalin and Balin moved to stand beside him, and they began to talk in hushed voices. She saw that Dis was now conversing with Frey on the other side of the room and, feeling suddenly out of place like wool in a gold-trimmed hall, she took her leave, feeling Thorin's gaze boring through her back as she did so. 

The bitter cold that swept the streets bit at her cheeks as she stepped outside, but she welcomed the feeling gladly, her body still burning from the passion and intensity that radiated from Thorin's eyes, seeming to penetrate her very soul. 

Dwalin's words ran through her mind as she leaned against the stone wall of the house. The concern she had felt for Thorin ever since she had gazed into his grief-stricken eyes had doubled upon knowing that others were concerned about him. If only she could have been overreacting. She had always felt the urge to comfort Thorin in whatever ways possible, even when it had been far from her place to concern herself with his wellbeing. The need to alleviate him from his sorrows grew with each passing day, but so did his worries and grievances so that she felt powerless in the face of his sorrow. 

She was surprised but glad to see Thorin walk out of the house. He looked around quickly, seemingly searching for something before he noticed her standing beside him. They smiled shyly at each other like children who had just shared a secret before Dania realized they were in public, and she gave a quick curtsy. 

"Prince Thorin," she spoke with a tenderness contrary to the formality of the title. 

"Dania," he said in the same tone. 

"How is your wound?" 

"Fine," he answered. "I have been feeling much better thanks to your . . . ministrations."

The boyish grin that tugged at his lips made it impossible for her to ignore the suggestiveness of the comment. Dania rolled her eyes, but the small smile that appeared on her reddening face told him she was more amused than not by his teasing. 

"My father has asked me to go look for some maps in the village," Thorin said. "Will you join me?"

Dania wanted nothing more than to spend time with him, but she knew they had to be careful. 

"Should we not try and spend less time together?" she asked in a low voice. "At least in public."

There was a flicker in his eyes, but it was gone in an instant. "If anyone should feel the need to gossip, we will simply offer them the truth: you have much more expertise than I when it comes to maps and mapmaking, and I am simply making use of your talents."

Another smile escaped her, and she nodded. 

"What are the maps for, if I may ask?" 

"Nothing is certain yet," he said cautiously, making her frown. "I will tell you when we are alone."

From the hushed conversations of the sitting room to the restlessness she noted in Thorin's expression, she knew something was beginning to take shape. But whether she should be glad or apprehensive, she knew not. She remembered the last time Thorin had come to her looking for maps and all the horrors that had befallen them since then. Frerin gone — 

Dania was reminded of emptiness as they walked through the streets. A haunting silence reigned, broken only by the slow wailing of a child coming through a window that was open despite the chill, making Dania think it was most likely broken, frozen ajar to let in the unwelcome breeze. They passed more people, mostly dams, wearing clothes that would have seemed soiled even if they had just been washed. Dania wrapped her cloak more tightly around herself, all too conscious that save for a few rips at the hem, her dress appeared like new. 

They rounded a corner to reach the street where stood Geth's shop, but Dania froze. A dam sat on the ground before the bakery, clutching a bundle of masculine clothing as a small child stood beside her. He was quiet. Dania felt a lump in her throat; children that small should not be so quiet. 

Her numb fingers fumbled her cloak until she reached the small pouch tied around her waist. She opened it. Only a handful of coins of little worth were inside, but she pulled out an old silver piece and held out her hand. The dam looked up to her warily, but the emptiness that had clouded her eyes soon transformed into a look of awing incredulity. 

The dam seemed to want to thank her as she raised a shaking hand to collect the coin, but no words left her mouth. Dania tore her gaze away from her and took a step toward the shop, but Thorin did not move. He stood staring at her, and although the desolation around them seared his eyes with pain, Dania saw in them boundless admiration for her. She surprised herself in being annoyed by his reaction. What she had done was nothing to be congratulated or admired for; it was simply the thing to do. 

The bell attached to the door rang as they entered the shop. Dania had expected to find Geth standing behind the door, waiting for the next customer as he had always done, but there was no one. It was even darker than Dania remembered, with only the dim flickering light of a few candles on the front desk illuminating the room, with most of the wax melted so that the flames almost drowned in it. 

They heard a grunt coming from the back, and then the floor creaking as someone advanced toward them. Dania felt Thorin inch closer to her, the back of his hand brushing against her own, and she could not help but let a small, amused smile form on her lips. Dwarves were extremely protective of their women, guarding them as they guarded their gold, and although she was fond of the freedom her father had granted her lately, Thorin's possessiveness gave her a sense of fulfillment, and she could not deny that the intensity of his gaze slightly aroused her. 

"Oh, it's you," Geth said, his voice creaking like the old wood planks beneath their feet. 

Dania raised a brow. "Is this how you great your customers?" _No wonder this place is empty_ , she thought. 

She surprised herself in speaking with such unfettered honesty, but then the man had never shown any tolerance for her, let alone respect. From the corner of her eye, she saw Thorin eyeing her, seeming surprised, though not displeased, by her speech. 

"Only the ones who annoy me," Geth grumbled in response. 

Dania nodded, having not expected any differently from him. 

"Well, lucky for you, we will not need to annoy you much longer. I know where everything is, and so I can help myself."

Geth only groaned in response. Dania looked back at Thorin and gestured for him to follow her into the small, crooked hallway that led to a back room where all the maps were kept. It was dark, and the air was damp and heavy — terrible conditions for preserving old books and maps — and the musty smell of mould ruined the crisp, sweet smell of old parchment that should have greeted her. 

"Alright," she said as she lit a few candles to help them see, "will you tell me what we are looking for?" 

"Any maps that may indicate abandoned villages or small settlements, preferably near mountains of some sort so that we may take up mining and forging," Thorin said.

Dania stared at him, waiting for more as the wheel inside her mind began to turn. She knew what that meant. Thorin indulged her after a moment. 

"My father wants us to relocate. He cannot bear the crudeness of Men any longer — and neither can I," he explained. "In any case, our purpose, or at least, my grandfather's purpose in staying here was to reclaim Moria. No more can be done about that now."

He spoke with such bitter finality that Dania could not help herself but move closer to him and wrap her arms around him. No one ever came in here anyways. 

Thorin responded to her touch by burying his face in the crook of her neck, where he placed a lingering kiss. Dania was still not used to the tenderness of his touches nor to the fire they ignited in her, so she trembled lightly as goosebumps appeared on her skin. She felt warm, too, and knew that a blush smeared her cheeks. 

They stayed like that for a moment. Dania stared at the maps that filled the shelves before, out of nowhere, a thought occurred to her. 

"What about Ered Luin?" She asked suddenly. 

"What?" 

"Ered Luin — " Dania said as she moved toward a shelf where she knew maps of Eriador were stored. "It's in the Blue Mountains."

She pulled out a stack and turned around to set them on the table in the centre of the room. Thorin stood beside her in curious silence as she unfolded the maps and spread them out on the table in front of them. 

"There," she said as she pointed to a settlement in the southern parts of the Blue Mountains. 

"Ered Luin," Thorin read before looking up to her. "What of it?"

"Dwarves occupied the Blue Mountains for thousands of years," Dania said as she studied the maps. 

"But they don't anymore, except for a few settlements in the North," Thorin said even though he knew Dania already knew this. 

She pulled out a map that seemed to have been folded and unfolded hundreds of times, its surface stained with various substances. She set it beside one that seemed modern enough before looking up to Thorin. 

"Thousands of years ago, the great cities of Belegost and Nogrod were the centre of our culture," Dania began. "These cities were destroyed, however, though I do not know what exactly happened. These two cities can be seen on this map," she said as she pointed to the ancient-looking one. "Though it is not very accurate, as you can see. This shows the Blue Mountains as one continuous range of mountains from the Ice Bay to Harlindon when there should be the Gulf of Lune cutting the range in two in the middle — like in this one," she pointed to the newer map.

Thorin nodded as he listened to her intently. 

"Although the cities were destroyed, many smaller settlements remain to this day, though they have long since been abandoned. Some of the mines from the days of Belegost and Nogrod are still present," she explained as she pointed to the drawings that indicated the settlements and mines on the newer map. "They are also quite possibly still functional, given proper restoration, of course."

"That . . . actually sounds like it could work," Thorin said, sounding surprised. "If only it weren't so far . . ."

She did not need him to tell her far from what. She knew. It was so far away from home that the thought of actually leaving to live there rendered her dizzy, but her opinions on the matter did not matter. It was the King's decision. More importantly, she would follow Thorin to the end of the world. 

Dania also found herself thinking about what life in the Blue Mountains might entail. It could certainly not be worse than what they had endured here in Dunland. Perhaps a new beginning did not sound so terrible after all. 

"Well, as you said, nothing is certain yet," she said. 

Thorin nodded absently as Dania began to rollup the maps they had used. She knew they would get a reasonable price for them, Geth being uncritical as he was about his trade and Thorin being the good dealer that he was, having needed to bargain for food and medicine for them to survive more times than they could count. 

She tied the first with a leather cord, but Thorin put his hand on the second. 

"What is that?" he asked as he pointed to a settlement drawn on the map on the edge of the Gulf of Lune.

"The Grey Havens," Dania replied in an even tone, mentally preparing herself for the annoyance she knew he would display. 

"I have no wish to be close to Elves again," he grunted. 

In truth, this side of Thorin had always worried Dania — more so than it annoyed her. She worried that his disdain for the Elves would wash over her as well and drive him away from her. 

Thorin's expression softened as though he had heard her thoughts, and he moved in closer to her, wrapping his arms around her to create an intimate bubble between the two of them where such doubts were chased away. 

"You know my hate for the Elves does not apply to you, don't you? Nothing could ever affect my love for you," he spoke softly as he caressed her nose with his. 

She nodded as a relieved sigh escaped her lips. Her breath mingled with his for a moment before he leaned in for a kiss, then another and another, until their mouths moved together harmoniously, and their bodies became one as he pushed her back against the shelves that lined the wall. 

Dania whimpered quietly as Thorin tore his lips from hers to leave a trail of kisses along her jawline, then her neck, before he started nibbling at the soft flesh below her ears. Her legs buckled, the wooden shelves rattled behind her, and she had to bite her cheeks to stop a moan from escaping her lips. 

Thorin caught her with an arm around her waist, clutching at the skin beneath her silky but hampering skirts. His mouth delved even deeper into her, tasting every inch of her neck as his beard grazed over the moistened skin. The braids that framed his face hung between them, tickling the skin above her breasts so that heat prickled in the space between her legs and turned her breasts heavy and sensitive. 

Involuntarily, she wrapped her legs around him, gasping as she felt his mounting pleasure against her thighs. All of her racing thoughts slipped away as though her heart took over from her head when they were as close as this. It took her courage, but she let herself be filled with love for him in every inch of her body, inhaling his scent as though she was absorbing a part of his soul, forever binding him to her. 

She heard a faint sound coming from the other side of the shop, a soft creaking. Then it sounded again, louder and more distinct.

"Th — Thorin — " 

She could barely speak, her heart hammering in her chest so fast it transformed her skin to liquid fire. Thorin groaned against her skin, but when she repeated his name, he looked up to her, his eyes shining with a mix of pure adoration and intense hunger. 

The sounds became louder, and they realized someone — Geth, most likely, as they had not heard the bell of the front door — walking around. Thorin reluctantly pulled away, gently setting Dania back on the ground. She leaned in against him, already missing his touch, but cursed herself for doing so and immediately pulled back. She rolled up the second map, which had been tossed to the floor in their scrambling about., and tied it with a leather cord. 

They did quick work of paying for the maps, getting a good deal on them — as Dania had predicted, and walked back out into the bitter cold. There was no sun, but Dania could tell it was about midday. 

"I've been meaning to ask you something," she said as they walked back to his house. 

"Yes?" 

"Do you think, perhaps, we could tell Dis?" she asked shyly. "About, you know . . ."

He nodded absently before letting out a small chuckle. "Aye, I do not think we could keep it away from her even if we wanted to."

She gave him a small, pleased smile. "My thoughts exactly."

The small happiness that floated between the two of them was shattered as they walked into the house, which was filled with the wailing of the Queen as she stood at the bottom of the stairs. 

"Mother!" Thorin exclaimed as he rushed to embrace her. 

Lady Adis buried her head against her son's chest and wept a stricken lament that pierced Dania's heart. She felt a wave of guilt and shame overcome her as she thought of how she had used Thorin to try and forget about her grief when the Queen had needed her only surviving son more than ever. _How selfish of me_ , Dania thought, _I cling to him as though my life depends on it, but in truth, his family needs him more than I_. 

Thorin lifted his eyes to meet hers, and they stared at each other for a while as the Queen's cries slowly died down. Dania could see that whatever relief their short moment together had brought him had been chased away by the unbearable burden that was his duty both as the eldest child and as the heir to the throne. Her own heart felt his burden as though it was her own, and she thought that, for him, she could have born it all, but she could not bear to see him suffer so. _You deserve all the happiness in the world_ , she told him wordlessly through her gaze, _I am sorry life has been so cruel to you_. 

***

It was night when Dania was able to sneak out of the house she shared with her father. She had not seen Thorin since he had walked into the meeting with his father and his advisors, and she was anxious to know of the decision they had reached. 

She cautiously made her way to the armoury and saw that a torch was lit inside, flickering lowly as though it had merely been forgotten by the last person to leave the armoury, but Dania knew he was there. She glanced around the street, making sure she was alone before she moved to open the wooden door, which creaked with the weight of centuries as she stepped through it. 

Thorin sat on a wooden chest in the back of the room, looking solemn as he stared at his sword Deathless which sat on the floor at his feet. 

"I thought I would find you here."

Her voice propelled him to look up. He smiled weakly as he took in her cloaked figure, still shivering slightly from the bitter cold. Her cheeks were red, and snow stuck to her chestnut locks like daisies on the forest ground. 

"And here I thought my hiding place was impenetrable," he said with a chuckle. 

Dania gave him a small smile before moving to sit beside him on the makeshift bench. They were silent for a while, and Dania knew Thorin was thinking of all the dangers that lay ahead, just as she was. 

"So?" she asked, not really knowing how to go about it. "Did you come to a decision?" 

Thorin nodded slowly before he turned to face her, and she saw how tired he looked. "My father approved of your idea. We are going to the Blue Mountains."

So this would be the last time they would meet in the armoury. Dania could remember the very first time like it was yesterday. Seven years had passed since that night, and already then she had loved him, but she loved him even more now. She had grown accustomed to his presence, but his courage, honour, and leadership still filled her with an awe that was made obvious to him through her worshipping gaze. She had not, however, grown accustomed to how gorgeous he was — nor would she ever, she thought. Even tired and slightly dishevelled from the unforgiving wind outside, he was breathtaking. 

She was surprised, but not wholly disappointed, by his answer. She had had much time to think since the morning, and she had concluded that there was nothing left for them in this part of the world. A new start in a new land would be good for them, especially if they moved to a place where they could make use of the talents passed on to them by their forefathers. Mining, smithing, crafting the most beautiful weapons and jewelry; that was what the Dwarves were good at, and these talents were thoroughly underappreciated by Men. 

But something in the way Thorin spoke told her he was not so pleased by this new development. She wanted to comfort him, but given that nothing she did seemed to have a lasting effect on his mood, she found herself at a loss of words, and so she offered him help in the way she knew best. 

"I need to make sure your wound is healing nicely," she spoke softly.

She opened her pouch and took out a fresh bandage along with a flask of water and a bottle of athelas, though she hoped she would not have to use the latter.

"May I?" she asked as she gestured to his shirt, meaning to take it off.

Thorin chuckled. "You need not ask, _amrâlimê._ "

She flushed slightly at the word, wondering if she would ever get used to this newfound tenderness between them as she unbuckled his belt before lifting his shirt over his head. 

She placed a hand on his chest, lingering for a moment on his breasts before she moved to remove the bandage at his waist. She was relieved to see that the wound was indeed healing nicely; the inflamed welts were now nothing but yellowing lines and blotches, and the wide wound was already beginning to close and scab. 

"It is looking well," she told him as she wrapped a fresh bandage around him. "Though, please ask for help immediately in the future. I would hate to see you die from something as stupid — and preventable — as an infection."

"As My Lady commands," he said with the hint of a smile on his lips, but it faded away in an instant as his eyes avoided her. 

Dania sighed as she rearranged her belongings in her bag. His silence began to eat at her and —unable to bear the look of pain that stained his eyes — she rested a soft hand against his calloused one to get his attention. 

"What is troubling you?" she asked tentatively.

"Why do you assume I am troubled?" he replied, still not looking at her. "Perhaps I am only contemplative."

"What are you contemplating, then?" 

He sighed deeply, and there was a long pause before he spoke again. "I thought that by following my father to Moria, I would be protecting my family. That they would be safe. That _you_ would be safe."

"You did protect us," she answered, confused. "The Orcs would have found us one day if you had not gone."

"Hmm."

Not knowing how to make him understand that he could confide in her — that she wanted him to, she let out a short, annoyed laugh before pouring out the weight that his predisposition for reserve imposed on her. 

"Dwalin and Balin asked me to look after you — make sure you are alright," she admitted. "But, you are making it impossible!"

"They asked you to look after me?" 

She huffed loudly. "They are worried about you, and so am I."

Another one of his brooding silences ensued. 

"Thorin, you can tell me _anything_ ," she said in a breathless voice, overwhelmed by her need to understand and help him. "I cannot bear to stand back and watch you let your sorrows swallow you whole! I want to share your pain, as much as your happiness. _Please_ , talk to me."

He slowly turned to her, and she was shocked to see his eyes wet with tears. She had seen him cry just the night before, but she was still not used to how openly he displayed his emotions to her. Her father had always been a very reserved Dwarf; she could only recall having seen him cry once, and that had been just after Smaug had attacked Erebor, taking away her mother and all that they had known. 

"I should be able to offer your safety. A life of peace and prosperity," his voice trembled as he spoke. "In going to the Blue Mountains, we will go back to living on the road again, to wander through the unforgiving sting of Winter in the wild. To carry on for days without a proper meal, and stir through sleepless nights, damp without any heat to help alleviate the misery of it all. 

"You deserve so much more than that, _amrâlimê._ And yet I cannot help but think that all I am able to offer you is more pain and suffering and that I will one day lose you due to my incapability to take care of you. Just as I was unable to take care of my little brother."

"Don't blame yourself for what happened," she whispered in a voice so soft it was barely audible. She did not know how to respond to his confession other than by shaking him violently for torturing himself needlessly. 

Thorin pulled away just enough to see her face and frowned. He had never stated out loud that he blamed himself until now, but Dania had known. She had known since last night from the abhorrence rousing behind his eyes and the bitterness in his voice as he had spoken of the battle.

He sighed. "How can I not? I did nothing to prevent it."

"How could you have?" she said, feeling the hole in her heart widening as she heard the pain breaking his voice. "Your father's mind was set. _Your_ mind was set, and there was nothing wrong with that, for, in your heart, you were embarking on a noble quest: avenging your grandfather's death. How could you have known what would happen?"

"A scout came to us before the battle, saying he had seen ten thousand Orcs amassing before the gates. We could have turned around — there was still time. Frerin would still be with us — "

"Thorin, _please_ , stop torturing yourself," she pleaded as tears stung her eyes. "There was nothing you could have done, and even if there was," she added as she saw the look in his eyes that told her he was about to disagree, "there is no point in lingering on what could have been. Frerin is gone, and we will miss him every day, but we cannot focus on what we have lost. Your father is alive, and so are your mother and sister. So many people look up to you; so many _love_ you, and so I would ask you to focus on their love instead of your grief."

Thorin smiled fondly at her through his tears, his love for Dania casting away all the shadows in his mind. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

Dania chuckled and shook her head as she pulled him even closer to her. "You deserve all the happiness in the world, Thorin. And if I am a part of that happiness, then you have done everything to deserve this."

He rubbed his nose against hers, as she let herself drown in the depths of the love that shone in his eyes. 

"For years, your company has been the one thing that kept me afloat. In a life full of misery and uncertainty, you were my one joy and constant. I knew I could always count on you, and yet the thought that one day someone would take you away from me stained that one happiness. Words cannot express how lucky I feel now that you have chosen me above all others."

Dania smiled tenderly, her heart threatening to explode as she graced his lips with a small kiss into which she poured every single bit of emotion she felt, leaving them both breathless. "The feeling is mutual, I assure you," she whispered. "I love you." 

She still could not believe she was allowed to speak the words aloud. 

"And I, you," he spoke softly before attaching his lips to hers once more, and they lost themselves as they tasted one another, overwhelmed by the heat of their love.

A soft sound of pleasure escaped her lips as her aching breasts brushed against Thorin's naked chest, and in an instant, his arms wrapped themselves around her, lifting her into his arms as though she weighed nothing. The world spun around her as he set her back down on the floor beneath him. 

Thorin removed his pants and blew out the candle's flame so that no one would ever think the armoury occupied. Then they moved as one to reconnect their lips as Dania unlaced the stiff bodice of her dress, granting him the access he sought. 

The first time had been wonderful, but it had also been nerve-wracking and awkward at times. These were gone the second time as they moved against one another with more strength and purpose. 

Dania had been too lost in the moment, too overwhelmed by her love and need for him, to take in all the sensations that tingled her body, from her head down to her toes. She focused on the feel of him moving inside her with such passion that she felt her insides stirring deliciously, and she felt the weight of his hips against her quivering limbs, forcing her to bury her head in his shoulder to muffle her cries. 

The pleasure inside her mounted quickly as Thorin panted in her ears, and soon their climax washed over them, soaking them in immeasurable love as their hearts beat as one. 

Long after, they still lay there, completely wrapped in each other, dreading their return to the outside world that was oblivious to their growing bond. Only the stars that danced in their eyes witnessed their love and the only proof of it was those very same stars that made their eyes gleam despite all the hardships of their daily lives. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dania's remarks about the Dwarf settlements in the Blue Mountains are based upon information found in The Silmarillion (The Silmarillion, Quenta Silmarillion, Chapter X: "Of the Sindar," ed. by Christopher Tolkien)  
> The maps compared by Dania are the easternmost part of Beleriand (see The Silmarillion) and the map of Eriador (seen on the map of Middle-earth in the 3rd Age found in The Lord of the Rings).   
> Khuzdul Translations:
> 
> Amrâlimê: My love


	14. Âzyungel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Drink to me only with thine eyes,  
> And I will pledge with mine;  
> Or leave a kiss but in the cup,  
> And I'll not look for wine." — Ben Jonson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! First of all, I want to apologize for taking so long with this chapter; school has been crazy these past few weeks and I just haven't had much time for creative writing! That being said, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter and if you do, please leave a small comment and kudos if you haven't already! This chapter is unusually fluffy for this fic ... so enjoy!!

Only the sound of hooves on the ground told Dania that she was indeed advancing. The landscape around her did not change: a barren wasteland with only a small grouping of dying trees here and there and a thin blanket of snow on the ground. Even the sky did not change; it was always dark and cloudy, with no sunshine to tell whether it was night or day. Dania knew time had indeed passed when King Thrain called to make camp for the night. Other than that, nothing, just the same numbing homogeneity.

Winter was brutal in the wild. Wind blew savagely, and with no trees to halt its course, it was free to unleash its full force onto the camps. No matter how tightly Dania wrapped her cloak around herself, she could feel it biting at her skin, turning her cheeks red and her fingers numb. Nothing could warm her. Not the fires they tried to light, not the bland stew that was her only meal, not even the woollen blanket she hid under at night. Nothing.

She barely remembered the sun's warmth.

The only comforts that kept her from falling from her horse and never getting up again were her pleasant talks with Dis as they rode together. That and the stolen moments she was able to have with Thorin from time to time, sharing soft caresses hidden behind trees or bushes whenever they encountered them or between two tents when no one was watching in the middle of the night.

She poured the water she had boiled into two cups, grunting when the heat radiating off them made her feel even colder somehow. She had to twist and turn around the people filling the camp before she ducked inside the tent, shutting out the howling wind.

The tent — which was made out of linen and held together by wooden polls — was small. Barely large enough for the two beds tucked on opposites sides. A dying flame in a rusty lantern was the only source of light. Dis sat on her bed, still shivering uncontrollably despite the two blankets she had wrapped around her.

"Here," Dania said as she handed her a cup. "This should help."

"Thank you!"

The pair had been sharing a tent since the beginning of the journey so that they would not have to be alone at night. This allowed Dania to perform her duties as Lady-in-waiting, but it also allowed them to take comfort in each other's presence — as friends.

"Have you talked to Thorin?" the princess asked with a mischievous smile. So the warm water _was_ helping return her spirits.

Dania had confided in Dis as soon as they had been alone for the first time on the journey. Dis had been delighted, of course. Although they had always been close, this disclosure seemed to have brought them even closer, as though they had become sisters through more than just their bond.

"I did not see him anywhere," she replied.

She took a sip from her cup and felt the warm liquid travelling down her throat, but the heat did not last.

"Stubborn mule," Dis muttered. "Who does he think he is to make me wait like that?"

"The prince?" Dania said with an amused smile. "The heir apparent?"

Dis rolled her eyes. "Sure, take his side."

A gush of wind shook the tent. Dania wrapped herself more tightly in her blanket. She had expected to see Thorin, but Frey stood before her, shaking off the snow that had covered his head and coat.

As though no longer aware of the cold, Dis stood and jumped into his arms.

"Thorin sent _you_?"

A shadow of annoyance still lingered in her tone, but it was stifled by a tender intimacy that made Dania feel like an intruder.

"Well, actually," he said. "I convinced him to let me do it. I wanted to see you."

He leaned in to catch her lips in a kiss but froze as though just now noticing that they were not alone.

"Oh, er, Dania," he said, his cheeks flushed. "How are you?"

"I would be better if I did not have to act as a chaperone."

His blush grew, but he chuckled when he saw the amusement on her face. Frey's bashfulness had surprised Dania at first, especially given Dis' more assertive character. She had to remind herself that their relationship was, after all, an arranged one at its core, though it pleased her greatly to see that, over the years, they had become increasingly devoted to one another.

"Do you have it?" Dis asked.

Frey handed her the pile of books in response.

"Finally!" the princess exclaimed.

"May I ask why you demanded to have these books brought to you so suddenly?"

"Because there is nothing else to do," she said in exasperation. "Father will not let me go out after dark even if the whole camp is being guarded."

"Like you would go out even if he _did_ let you," Dania said. "You're freezing even with all those blankets!"

"Are you cold?" Frey asked, concern marking his features. "I could get you some more blankets. Or, here — take my coat."

"No, I am fine," she said, though her own cheeks had reddened. "I assure you."

Dania could not help herself but smile as she eyed them. Despite all the hardships they had suffered, they still had each other. Dis deserved it.

"Where is T — _Prince_ Thorin, anyway?" Dania asked.

He shrugged. "I have not seen him since we first made camp and Dis asked him to bring her these books."

She frowned. She had expected to use Dis' request to spend time with him — and surely he would have understood that — so where was he?

"I'm going out," she announced as she pulled her blankets off her shoulders and fastened her cloak.

Dis and Frey — who had been wholly absorbed with each other — turned to face her, confusion written across their faces.

"Surely you do not think I will let you venture out at night on your own?" Frey said with an air that would have looked more at home on Thorin's face.

An urge to tell him he had no right to tell her what to do rose inside her, but she stopped herself. Frey was a good Dwarf; he was only being cautious.

"I will be fine," she said as she gave Dis a knowing look.

The princess gave a nod of understanding before whispering something to Frey to ease his worries. But whatever concerns Dania had about that left her mind as soon as she walked out of the tent and into the bitter cold of the night. Once, she might have been worried about being out at night alone, but not anymore. In any case, she had easy access to Thorin's dagger as it rested safely in her pocket. She had been forced to purchase a new dress in Dunland — for she had been wearing her old one for far too long, the sleeves stained and the hem ripped — and had insisted on pockets. The seamstress had raised an eyebrow at that — apparently proper ladies did not have pockets sewn into their gowns, for some reason — but Dania knew how to wield a sword and had pledged herself to a Dwarf — curse her crimson cheeks! — without the consent of their families, so who was she to consider herself a 'proper' lady? Not that she cared, of course.

Even at this hour, the camp was bustling with activity. Messengers ran to and fro between tents, and the fires were surrounded by people seeking its warmth. Even some children were still up. But it was quiet — lifeless. The Dwarves had never considered Dunland as their home, yet they had grown accustomed to living there. They had developed a routine — a new life.

That was before they had been uprooted once more, forced to live on the road as they had when the dragon had just attacked. It almost seemed as though not a day had passed since then, but upon closer inspection, Dania saw even more grief in her kin's eyes than on that wretched day, for the losses they had suffered at Azanulbizar were still fresh in their minds.

More guards surrounded the area where the royal family and the king's closest advisors were staying to block intruders. Fortunately, Dania did not have to worry about that because she already was in this part of the camp, so her sneaking around passed unnoticed. She was still glad to reach Thorin's tent without having been discovered. Her hood hid her face, but sometimes a cloaked figure attracted more attention than someone who openly displayed their identity.

"Thorin?" she called in a half-whisper.

His voice bade her enter. She lowered her hood as soon as she was safely inside, revealing herself to him. A small smile lit his features as he looked up to her, but he seemed exhausted.

"Dany." He gestured for her to sit near him on the bed. A small desk had been placed before it, and numerous papers were scattered across it, lit by a single candle.

She removed her cloak but immediately started shivering. Thorin seemed unaffected by the weather as he sat wearing only his usual vest and tunic underneath.

"How are you not freezing?"

He gave her an amused smile but frowned when he saw her trembling shoulders.

"Ah, _amrâlimê_ ," he said. "I am too busy to be cold. Here — "

He wrapped a thick woollen blanket around her shoulders and placed a warm kiss onto her forehead. She leaned into him as he returned to his work, making another amused smile appear on his lips as he wrapped an arm around her.

"What's that?" she asked once comfortably pressed against his chest, eyeing the papers before them.

"List of remaining food supplies," he said with a long sigh.

She looked up to him. "How bad is it?"

"I do not want to worry you with all of this," he said as he gave her shoulder a tight squeeze. "But in all honesty, I do not know what my father was thinking in setting out during Winter."

There was a moment of silence before she spoke up. "We should be crossing the Greenway any day now. Surely we could spare some people to ride to Bree to gather more supplies."

"Yes, but not enough for the whole camp."

There was another pause. Dania desperately wanted to alleviate his worries, but instead, she only felt as though she was intruding.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have come."

Thorin looked down at her with wide eyes. "Nonsense," he said. "I am glad of your company."

A tingle warmed her heart. "But I shouldn't take such risks — what if I was seen? — especially when you are already far too busy."

He kissed her cold hands in response. "No one saw you; I am sure of it. You can hide yourself with a skill only akin to the Elves. Besides, my father asked me to look into these things for him, but he knows as well as I there is not much we can do."

She frowned, curious as to why the king would pass on his duties to his son. Thorin understood the look in her eyes.

"He was . . . indisposed."

"Indisposed?" she repeated. "Thorin, you don't have to use such courtly equivocations with me. You can _talk_ to me."

He took a deep breath. "My father he . . . he is not taking my brother's, er — he is not taking it well."

He squeezed her hand tightly. It was an impulsive gesture; he seemed barely aware of it.

"And my mother . . . "

A tear rolled down his cheek. It was like an arrow pierced her heart as she watched him.

"If taking on some of my father's duties can help alleviate some of their sorrow . . . then I will do it."

"And what about _you_?"

He quirked his eyebrows. "Me?"

"Who will alleviate yoursorrows?"

The smile she loved so dearly graced his lips. It was small, overshadowed by the pain in his eyes, but it was a smile nonetheless, and it warmed her heart.

"Your presence alone is of great help, _amrâlimê_ ," he said as his eyes pierced her own.

"I am glad," she said with a smile as she wrapped her arms around his neck, closing the distance between them.

She watched him for a moment. Dark circles rested below his eyes, but already he seemed in better spirits than he had before. His beard was not as neatly trimmed as she was accustomed to, but there was something ruggedly handsome about it that made the familiar heat inside her swell anew. And then there were his eyes, the warmth and life of the sun shining in them as he stared back at her. _Mahal_ , she could stare at them all day.

His throat shifted as he swallowed, drawing her attention to the muscles there and the dip of his collarbone with those soft unruly hairs begging for her touch. Then her gaze caught his lips as they curled upward. That smile. It was more beautiful than the Winter sun above pristine snow. Warmer than the Spring wind ruffling the soft new grass. More gracious than flowing Autumn leaves. She moved closer to him, her lips drawn to his like a butterfly seeking the nectar of the most fragrant flower.

He chuckled. The deep sound reverberated through her body and made her insides flutter.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me when you stare at me like that?" he said roughly, but amusement still flickered in his eyes.

Thorin was always so formal and dignified, even brooding, at times, but oh how she loved this more mischievous side of him.

"Pray tell, _My Lord_ , I would not want to cause you any discomfort," she said teasingly.

He hummed, his hands circling her waist below the blanket before pulling her onto his lap. "Then would you be so kind as to help . . . _relieve_ me from it?"

" _My Lord!_ " she exclaimed with feigned indignation, being careful not to raise her voice — she was not supposed to be here, after all. "That is quite scandalous of you! Do you corrupt all respectable ladies in this way?"

"Only the ones with a lovely round arse like yours." His hands moved to squeeze the flesh of her buttocks, making her squeal.

" _Thorin!_ " she choked out through her laughter, which she failed miserably to contain.

He kissed her then, both in an attempt to silence her and because he had restrained himself long enough when all he had wanted to do from the moment she had walked in was ravish her. He could not help himself; her very presence bewitched him. She was like a goddess, straight out of the tales of old. _No_ , he thought, _she_ is _a goddess, more beautiful than Yavanna herself!_ To anyone else, her mixed heritage might have been unsettling, but to him, it was a gift. He despised the Elves, but he could not deny that they had given him the most beautiful treasure of all. His _ghivashel_. His One.

He felt his cheeks flare up, and a jolt of timidity — an emotion he was not accustomed to — rushed through him as those thoughts engraved themselves in his mind. His One.

From a very young age, all Dwarves learned that a union between two people was sacred and that nothing in the world could break it, not even death. Of course, not every Dwarf married, but some were blessed by Mahal, given the chance to meet their One. Two hearts crafted from the same stone. Two souls that created a whole. This was their Maker's gift. Thorin knew that to be granted this chance was the greatest honour of all, and he had never thought that one day he would be granted this treasure, having not deemed himself worthy. But when he looked into Dania's eyes, he knew. Mahal, he knew. Beyond all his wildest hopes and dreams, he had found her at last, and he could not have asked for anyone more perfect.

She was kind, loyal, much too forgiving and accommodating. A true jewel. There was no doubt in his heart that she had been made for him, just as he had no doubt that he had been made for her. She complimented him perfectly, and yet she also surpassed him in every sphere. All the qualities he dared believe to possess she exhibited threefold. He truly did not know what he had done to deserve her, but it was Mahal's will, so who was he to contest it?

He pulled away then. _Should I tell her? Or am I being too hasty?_ He wanted to tell her, desperately, but he stayed silent. _Why?_ He had given himself to her, body and soul and even though he had had doubts about taking such a monumental step out of wedlock — out of concern for her honour — he knew that, given the chance, he would make the same decision again. He regretted nothing, and by the look on Dania's face, he dared believe that she, too, regretted nothing. Yet the thought of admitting, even just to himself, that she was his One, terrified him almost as much as it enthralled him. Telling her required too much courage for the moment.

She interrupted his thoughts by granting him another kiss. "Are you alright?" she asked against his lips, their breaths mingling.

Pulling away, she searched his eyes for an answer. He cursed himself, his heart beating erratically. Only she had the power to make him lose his composure like that. Surprisingly, that thought only made him want to kiss her again.

"I am glad you braved the cold tonight," he said, his voice slightly uneasy.

Dania frowned. There was a battle in his eyes, telling her that despite his words and that lovely kiss, she had yet again failed to appease his worries. She conjured a smile for him anyway.

"Anything to be alone with you, _amrâlimê_ ," she replied, kissing his patrician nose.

He frowned, his eyes flickering suddenly.

"What?" she asked.

"Did you leave my sister alone to come here?"

The concern in his voice made a small smile appear on her lips. "Of course not," she said, stroking his arm. "Frey is with her."

"Frey?"

Dania nodded slowly, confused.

"Just the two of them?"

There was a hint of outrage in his tone. Dania chuckled.

"Er, yes?"

"They should not be alone at such an hour when they are not yet married. It is not proper."

She raised an eyebrow. "But, Thorin, _we_ are alone . . ."

"Precisely," he said, his expression not wavering. "I can barely control myself . . . do you think I would trust him alone with my sister?"

She had to stifle her laugh with the blanket while he watched her with curious eyes. "That's on you, Thorin. I am sure Frey has more self-control." She hesitated then. "' _Barely control myself'_? You just groped me and kissed me like the world was ending!"

He smiled widely. _He is so beautiful_ , she thought as a hungry sigh washed through her.

"Are you complaining, _My Lady_?"

A shiver ran down her spine and a delicious heat stirred in her belly. Toes curling, she pressed herself against him even harder.

"Far from, actually," she said, biting her lips. "I am quite fond of your lack of control."

His smile grew even wider. "Then let me indulge you . . ."

At first, the kiss was a gentle outpouring of love, but it soon turned heated and urgent. She felt one of his hands reach beneath her skirts, cold against her naked thighs, and suddenly she could not stop thinking about the occupied tents all around them.

"Thorin — "

"My Lord?"

They froze. Thorin looked at her intently before turning his gaze toward the entrance of the tent. Dania did not even dare breathe. Had he heard her?

"My Lord?" the voice sounded again.

In one movement, Thorin slipped his hand away, lifted her from his lap and set her on his bed. Dania's heart was still beating erratically as he peeked his head out, careful to keep her away from sight.

"What is it?" Thorin asked, his voice hoarse and still a little breathless — though she doubted whoever was on the other side noticed.

Dania could not hear what was said next as they began to whisper, though why they were talking so quietly was beyond her, for whoever stood outside could not possibly have known that she was there. She did not even have time to question Thorin when he retreated back into the tent as he seemed to be in a hurry.

"I'll be right back, don't go," he said, shrugging his coat on impatiently as he placed a chaste kiss onto her lips, ignoring her pleas for an explanation.

A moment later, he was gone, leaving her shaken and shivering — only now did she realize the blanket did nothing to shield her from the cold. Cursing under her breath, she sat back down on the bed and waited. She was on the verge of sleep when his figure barged into the tent, the expression on his face chasing away any hint of fatigue from her body.

"What's wrong?" she asked as she stood up to face him.

"Do you have any herbs or something that might help, er, calm someone?"

She had never seen Thorin so uneasy; she tried not to let that unsettle her. Mahal knew they did not need two of whatever _that_ was.

"Er, yes, I do," she said. "Why?"

In response, he pulled away the blanket — she shivered more intensely — and wrapped her cloak around her shoulders.

"Come on," he said and dragged her out of their refuge, making sure there was no one outside.

"Thorin, what in Durin's name is going on?" she asked as she noticed he was leading her back to her tent.

"We need that herb."

She rolled her eyes, wondering why he could not just tell her why he had suddenly become possessed with an urge to get his hands on her herbs.

When they finally reached the tent she shared with Dis, they saw Frey standing just outside. He stood abruptly when he saw them, a relieved smile on his face.

" _There_ you are!" he said. "I was beginning to worry."

"Why?" she asked, but did not wait for an answer before rushing into the tent, roused to action by Thorin's insistent glare.

She heard Frey grumble in discontent, but she ignored him, scouring through her bag without much difficulty in the dark — Dis was sound asleep in the corner — and left with the small box of herbs and oils tucked beneath her left arm.

"Because you've been gone for almost an hour!" Frey responded in a low voice as she appeared out of the tent.

"I didn't mean to worry you; I'm sorry," she said as Thorin took the box from her arms.

"What is that?"

"You are asking a lot of questions," Thorin mumbled impatiently.

Dania rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at her lips. "That's my store of herbs. Prince Thorin asked for my help with something, though I know not what that something is," she explained with faint annoyance, which she knew Thorin would understand to be directed to him.

"Yes, speaking of which," Thorin grabbed her arm with his free hand, "we really need to get going." He turned to Frey. "Will you look after Dis until she gets back?"

There was a hint of annoyance in Frerin's eyes — he, too, was shivering now — but he understood as well as Dania that Thorin was testing him. Thorin was, after all, very protective, and not just of her, apparently.

"Of course," Frey said.

Thorin nodded before dragging Dania away, and she had to force herself to push his hand away. Their eyes met, and she understood that he had not even noticed that he had been holding her; it had been an impulsive gesture. Warmth spread through her; she felt silly just thinking it, but his protectiveness was enticing.

"So, can you tell me what's going on, or will you continue to be dramatic?"

Despite the worry that flooded his eyes, his lips curled upward. "Dramatic? I am not the one who sneaks out at night just for a kiss knowing full well she might be caught."

"Not _just_ for a kiss," she spoke with feigned indignation. "Besides, you said you were certain no one could have seen me," she reminded him with a smirk.

Ahead, Dania saw a larger tent surrounded by guards: the king's tent. Thorin's face turned firm and solemn again. "No one saw you. I was just teasing."

"Oh, you're usually better at that," she said in a last attempt to rouse that beautiful smile of his once more, and it worked, though it faded away immediately as they entered the large tent.

Her own smile disappeared as she took in the sight before her. It was darker than she had expected, and the candles seemed to have just been lit, the wax still solid at the base. A large table sat in the center, riddled with loose papers in piles that seemed to have been gathered hastily.

There were more people than she would have expected to see at this hour here: Balin — who had taken his father's position as an advisor — stood in the corner with his arms crossed over his chest. Nar was there, too, and her father was next to him, looking just as perplexed. Their eyes were fixed on King Thrain, who was being held by his wife, Lady Adis.

"Thorin, why would you bring her here?" Nar asked as soon as he noticed them. "You were supposed to get the healer!"

All eyes turned to them. Balin seemed horrified as his eyes landed on Dania, and Mimir raised an eyebrow at her, though she could not have explained to him what she was doing here even if he had asked.

"I sent someone to fetch him," Thorin said. "But since I knew where Dania was, I thought she could help in the meantime. Two opinions are better than one, as you always say, Nar, and I trust Dania greatly. She is skilled in healing."

She healed a superficial wound _once,_ and already he was singing her praises, in front of his father, no less. Disappointing the king would not be a good way to win his approval, and she tried to convey that in her expression as she glared at Thorin, but he shrugged it off.

"She has not had any training, as far as I am aware," Nar said.

She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by her father.

"Her mother was a very skilled healer," he said, surprising her. "She did pass on some of her knowledge to Dania."

Awkwardly, they looked at each other for a moment, both knowing that this was the first time he had mentioned her in years.

With a sigh, Nar nodded and gestured to the king as though urging her to prove herself, but she did not move, still confused.

"Sorry," she said hesitantly, "but what exactly is it that you need from me? Prince Thorin said something about a calming herb — ?"

"Can you administer such a treatment to the king?" Nar asked, making it clear that he did not think it necessary for her to know why such measures were needed.

"Yes, of course," she said. "I will need boiling water."

At once, a guard bowed to her and walked out of the tent; she inferred that he was fulfilling her request and hesitantly turned to look at the king. Lady Adis, who had remained silent, gave her a small smile of encouragement, permitting her to come closer. The Dwarves behind them began to talk amongst themselves in hushed voices. Dania could feel Thorin's gaze on her, but she was wholly focused on the Dwarf sitting before her, whom she could barely believe was her king.

King Thrain was shivering, though his wife's hands on his arms seemed to be easing whatever ailment had seized him. Words tumbled from his mouth in an almost incomprehensible manner, but the words Dania caught made her wish he had been speaking in a foreign tongue; words she would try to forget for years to come. She understood now why Nar and Balin had been hostile to her presence.

Dania looked away from the king, only to see the same worry Thorin had borne earlier in the queen's eyes. She should have said something, but she felt bereft of speech. Fortunately, Thorin appeared next to them and handed her her precious box. She could only nod in thanks.

After a few minutes that seemed to stretch for an eternity, the guard reappeared with a pot of boiling water. She opened the wooden box and fumbled through it until she found a small glass vial. 

"What is that?" Thorin's voice sounded beside her. 

She turned to look at him and found him crouching down beside her. She could not tell him or show him, but she was glad of his presence, as though the tenderness in his eyes eliminated the doubt in everyone else's stares. 

"Pennyroyal," she answered as she placed the herb in a small, mesh strainer she used as an infuser, then soaked the whole in the water. 

"It is a calming herb?" he asked, his eye fixed on her hands as she moved. 

"Yes, among other things."

It was lucky she had a vial of pennyroyal since none of the other herbs in her small store would have been of any use to the king, though its calming effects were not the reason she had the plant in her possession. 

Thorin's eyes moved to meet her own, wordlessly asking her what those other uses were, but she ignored him and moved to hand the king a cup of the tea she had just prepared. 

The tent fell silent. At first, the king seemed hesitant and confused, but under his wife's hopeful and encouraging eye, he complied and took a long sip. It did not take long before the cup in his hands was empty and he had the force to ask Dania for another. 

The tension slowly left the air as everyone realized their king was back to normal, though quickly falling asleep. 

"I am grateful for your treatment, dear. I do not quite know what made me so ill so suddenly," King Thrain said. "Pray tell, what is this miraculous treatment you have given me?" 

"It is pennyroyal, My Lord," Dania said just as two Dwarves appeared next to her. 

The eldest had long red hair and a beard of the same colour, adorned with many metal clasps, and he carried a chest similar to Dania's, though larger. She deduced he was the healer Thorin had called. Next to him stood a young Dwarf — he could not be older than 25 — and although his hair and beard were blond, there was no doubt in her mind he was the healer's son. 

"Pennyroyal?" the healer exclaimed. "By Durin, how did you get your hands on that, child?" 

Dania fought the urge to roll her eyes. "I bought it in Dunland just before we left. The merchant was selling it at a meagre price, and I believed it might be useful."

"It is a very rare plant." He had turned to his son, who was probably his apprentice. He raised his voice after a moment and looked at her. "It can, however, be very dangerous if not administered properly."

"There is no need to worry, Master . . .?"

"Groin."

"I assure you, Master Groin, I was cautious. In fact, I only gave the king half a dose, just to be safe."

He nodded slowly. "A wise decision," he said. "Still, I would not use it on just anybody if I were you. It can be especially dangerous for women, as it can cause bleeding and, thus, miscarriage. But I suppose you knew that?" 

She looked from Master Groin to Thorin as they both waited for her answer, cornering her. 

"Er, no, I did not know that," she said in what she hoped was a convincing manner. 

"Well, I trust that you will be more careful in the future?" he asked. 

"Of course, Master Groin," she said. 

He gave her a curt nod before moving to the king as Lady Adis turned to her. 

"I cannot thank you enough, Dania," she said as she moved to hug her. 

Dania was yet again surprised by the affection the queen showed her, but she was also glad for it. 

"There is no need to thank me, Lady Adis. Anyone would have done the same."

"Of course there is a need to thank you, silly girl," she said with a small smile and a shake of her head. "You are too modest. Isn't she, Thorin?" 

She turned to face him and found his eyes filled with confusion, lingering on a question she hoped he would not ask, but which she knew would come eventually. She should have known that she could not lie to him. 

To her relief, he was able to keep all of this hidden as he spoke. "Yes, mother, Dania needs to learn to accept compliments. She is more than worthy of them."

Dania could not stop her cheeks from turning crimson, even more so when she saw Thorin's eyes twinkle in response. He was doing it on purpose, she was sure of it, and it was tantalizing. 

"Lord Thorin," her father's voice sounded from behind her. "Lady Adis."

He bowed to them before turning to her. "It is time for us to go, _Gehyith_."

She nodded to him before bowing to the queen and Thorin, making sure not to meet his eyes because Mahal knew she had no control whatsoever over her body around him. 

Mimir put his arm around his daughter's own and lead her out of the tent, the cold wind immediately seeping into their skin. 

"I don't know why Prince Thorin went to you tonight," he said with a shrug, "but I am proud of you."

" _Dolzekh menu_ , _adad_ ," she replied with a smile. 

He smiled at her in response, and her heart was warmed by the sight. Mimir rarely showed his more affectionate side; this made her sad, though not because she felt like she was missing something, but rather because she knew her mother's death had changed him forever. As a child, his low spirits had annoyed her, but now that she had Thorin, she could sympathize with him a lot more. Not that she understood what he had gone through — she did not want to understand, for she did not want to even think about such a horrible thing happening to Thorin — but she knew she could never live without Thorin, and as such, she knew how hard every day must be for her father. 

When they reached the tent she shared with Dis, a small smile etched itself onto her face as she saw Frey, standing still as though guarding the greatest treasure of all. She nodded to him and bade him goodnight before hugging her father tightly. 

" _Men lananubukhs me_ , _adad_ ," she said softly as he held her. 

"I love you too, _Gehyith_ ," he replied, and she could feel his smile. "So very much."

Although this moment with her father warmed her heart, she had trouble sleeping that night, both her dreams and the darkness around her haunted by the memory of the words uttered by the king. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the information about the Dwarven belief in destined/divine love (the 'One') comes from The Dwarrow Scholar (an incredible resource!!): https://www.google.ca/amp/s/thedwarrowscholar.com/2013/04/11/whos-the-bride-dwarven-marriage/amp/
> 
> Khuzdul translations:
> 
> Âzyungel: Love of loves (used here to refer to the Dwarven belief in a single, destined soulmate)
> 
> Amrâlimê: My love
> 
> Ghivashel: Treasure of all treasures
> 
> Gehyith: Little Dove
> 
> Dolzekh menu: Thank you
> 
> Adad: Father
> 
> Men lananubukhs me: I love you


End file.
